Era
by moosey16
Summary: THIRD BOOK Eragon and Roran go to rescue Katrina, but don't expect to see Galbatorix and Murtagh there. Can our favorite Rider escape the Black King's lair and save Alagaesia from his deadly grasp?
1. Chapter 1: Departure

**Chapter 1: Departure**

Eragon and Roran walked into Nasuada's room at Borromeo castle. It had only been several days since the Varden had returned to Aberon, the capital of Surda, but Roran had been haunted by new dreams of Katrina ever since Eragon had scryed her after the battle of the Burning Plains. He didn't know what kind of torture they had used on her and the thought of those desecrators with his Katrina was too awful to bear.

Eragon had immediately agreed to help Roran rescue Katrina. The young Rider felt that Katrina's kidnapping was his fault. If it hadn't been for him, the Ra'zac wouldn't have even gone to Palancar Valley, nor would they have killed Garrow, Eragon's uncle and Roran's father.

When they arrived, Arya was there, talking with Nasuada. The cursed girl Elva huddled in a corner; she followed Nasuada everywhere now, in case of another assassination attempt. They managed to catch a few words of what was being said.

"I promise you, Nasuada, the elves are coming. Islanzadí has promised to help us," Arya said.

"I believe you, Arya," said Nasuada. "But I don't know whether or not they will make it to Surda in time for the Empire's next attack. We must continue to gather followers and enlist more men in our armies. The dwarves are returning to Farthen Dûr to inter Hrothgar and then they will need to elect a new king. We cannot count on them at the moment."

Eragon cleared his throat and Arya and Nasuada turned to look at him and Roran. Eragon bowed to Nasuada, his liegelord. "Lady Nasuada," he greeted her.

"Shadeslayer," Nasuada said in return, beckoning Eragon to his feet. "To what do I owe your presence here? I'm in the middle of a meeting with Arya."

"I'm sorry, Nasuada," Eragon apologized for interrupting them. "This can wait until you're finished."

Roran elbowed him angrily. Eragon shot him an annoyed look. He knew Roran was worried about Katrina, but he had to respect Nasuada.

Nasuada's face softened. "We should have included you, Rider Eragon," she said. "Arya and I are planning for Empire's next attack."

Eragon looked at Arya. She was as beautiful as she always was. She avoided his gaze and he blushed slightly before hastily looked back to Nasuada. He nodded. "The Empire will return," he stated solemnly. "The Varden must be ready."

"And they will be when the elves arrive," insisted Arya.

Nasuada sighed, as if she'd said this many times already. "I am truly grateful for Islanzadí's support, Arya, but we have no way of knowing when the elves will arrive. We need more warriors."

Eragon nodded. "Galbatorix will send a much larger force next time."

"Thank you, Eragon," Nasuada said, glad he agreed with her. "And with the dwarves returning to Farthen Dûr, we will be short on men, even with Surda's army."

_You will need more magicians too, Eragon,_ said Saphira from outside the tent. _Don't forget that._

"You will also need more magicians," Eragon suggested, repeating Saphira's concern. "Galbatorix will have more of them, too. I'm afraid Du Vrangr Gata won't be enough this time."

Arya pouted. "The elves have the greatest magicians in all of Alagaësia," she reminded them.

Nasuada nodded. "I will discuss this issue with King Orrin later," she said. "Now, tell me, Shadeslayer, why are you here now? And why is Stronghammer with you?"

"Roran and I have come before you, Nasuada, in hopes of rescuing someone very dear to our hearts who has fallen into the hands of the Ra'zac," Eragon started.

"Oh?" Nasuada asked, begging him to continue.

Frustrated with the small talk, Roran pushed Eragon out of the way and bowed briefly before Nasuada. "My Lady," he said. "I am engaged to a beautiful young girl named Katrina. However, her father was not so happy about our engagement. When the Ra'zac came to Carvahall to find me, Sloan, Katrina's father, betrayed our village and me. He told the Ra'zac where I was sleeping and they attacked Katrina and me during the night. While I was only wounded, those desecrators kidnapped my beloved Katrina."

"Only my ignorance about the location of their lair stopped me from following them," Roran continued. "Now, Jeod tells me that the Ra'zac dwell in a place called Helgrind near Dras-Leona. Eragon must come with me. Alone, I pose no threat against the Ra'zac and have no hope of rescuing Katrina. But with a Rider, I can destroy those desecrators. Eragon and I come before you and seek your permission to pursue this dangerous task."

Moved by Roran's story, Nasuada sighed. "You continue to intrigue me, Roran. I would very much like to keep Eragon here in Aberon in case of another Imperial attack. He would be sorely missed if Galbatorix attacked while you were away. However, who am I to think I can control a Dragon Rider? If this is where your path leads you, Eragon, than you must go."

Roran broke into a huge grin. "Thank you, Lady Nasuada," he said gratefully.

Eragon thanked Nasuada as well. "I will return if we see any signs of another attack," he promised her. "I cannot abandon the Varden to Galbatorix."

Nasuada smiled. "We shall be fine when the elves arrive." She shot Arya a smile, but Arya didn't look too pleased.

When Eragon and Roran left Nasuada's room, Arya followed them angrily. She grabbed Eragon's tunic and turned him around. "What do you think you're doing?" she hissed in the ancient language.

Eragon looked at Arya in surprise. "I'm helping my brother," he replied.

"Murtagh is your brother, not Roran," Arya said coldly. Once again, Eragon felt a shameful feeling in his heart. Silently, he turned and followed Roran away from Arya, but Arya wasn't done with him yet. She grabbed his shirt again and pulled him back. "How can you abandon them, Eragon?" she asked incredulously. "I would have thought, of all people, that you wouldn't abandon the Varden and leave them to die at the hands of Galbatorix. You know what's about to happen, what they're up against!"

"Arya Svit-kona," Eragon said gravely. "What would you have me do? I cannot abandon Katrina to the Raz'zac and I cannot abandon Roran to chase after her alone."

Arya let go of him and stepped back, her eyes flashing angrily. "Upon my word as a Rider," Eragon promised, "I will return."

Eragon turned and strode back down the corridor with Roran. He hadn't a clue what was bothering Arya, why she was acting so strange. "We leave at dawn tomorrow," he told Roran.

"Tomorrow?" Roran asked. "No, we leave today!"

Eragon shook his head. "The day is already halfway spent, Roran," he explained. "No, we leave tomorrow. Saphira will fly us. We'll be at Helgrind in no time."

* * *

Angela burst into Eragon's room, dragging Elva behind her. Eragon looked up with a gasp. "Angela?" he asked in surprise.

"That's right," she snapped. "It's time for you to cure this poor girl!" She motioned to Elva, the poor girl that Eragon had accidentally cursed in Tronjheim.

Eragon looked to Elva. "Do you wish for me to cure you?" he asked. When he proposed undoing the curse before, Elva hadn't given him a straight answer.

Elva replied, "It does not matter to me, Eragon." Her cynical voice sent chills down the Rider's spine. "I would be content to continue protecting Nasuada and other members of the Varden from assassins. However, she," she referred to Angela, "wants you to reverse the curse immediately."

Eragon nodded and looked to Angela. "I will not reverse the curse now," he stated. "Elva is a valuable member of Nasuada's guard just as she is now. She has also expressed acceptance with her position."

Angela's face contorted with anger. "Promise me, Shadeslayer, that when she wants to be cured, you will do it."

"Vel eïnradhin iet ai Shur'tugal."

* * *

_Do you have the new sword?_ Saphira asked as Eragon adjusted the straps of the dragon's saddle.

Eragon nodded. _King Orrin gave it to me, _he said, drawing the blade for Saphira to see. It was a magnificent blade with a golden hilt, but it was nothing compared to Zar'roc, the blade that Brom had given him after he'd stolen it from Morzan. When he fought Murtagh a few days ago, Murtagh had taken it back.

Roran approached the two with a smile on his face. A large hammer was attached to his belt. "Finally, Eragon," he said, "We rescue Katrina."

Nasuada appeared to see them off too. "Farewell, Shadeslayer," she said.

"I will be back in no time, Nasuada," Eragon assured her as he and Roran mounted Saphira. "Where's Arya?" he asked, looking for the elf.

"I don't know," Nasuada answered. "She hasn't been herself lately."

"Do you know what's bothering her?" he inquired.

Nasuada shook her head and stepped away from Saphira. "Good luck, Eragon," she said.

Eragon nodded to her and Saphira began to flap her wings and took off. Eragon watched as Nasuada waved to them. _To Helgrind, Saphira_, Eragon said.

_You sound distracted, little one_.

Eragon shrugged. _It's just Arya. She could have at least come to say goodbye._


	2. Chapter 2: Detection

**Chapter Two: Detection**

Galbatorix threw Murtagh to the floor in an angry rage.

"What do you mean, _you let him go_?"

Murtagh groaned and brushed some of his dark hair out of his face. If it hadn't been for Galbatorix's knowing his real name, he wouldn't even be in this mess. Ever since he was a little boy, Galbatorix had manipulated him. Making matters worse was the fact that Galbatorix made him speak in the ancient language. He could not lie to him.

He lifted his head to look at the king. Even in the dim light, he could see that Galbatorix's face was contorted with rage. "I did not disobey you," he gasped, getting to his feet again. "You ordered me to try to capture him. I did try."

Galbatorix snarled, "You are a foolish child! Your father never failed me like this."

"I am not my father," Murtagh breathed.

Murtagh felt himself pushed to the floor by Galbatorix's magic. He managed to suppress yelps of pain as the scar on his back burst into pain. Outside, he could feel Thorn sharing in his pain.

"In time you will learn, Murtagh," snarled Galbatorix, "not to be so flip with me." He allowed Murtagh to recover and make his way to his feet again. "You said you killed Hrothgar?"

Murtagh nodded. "He's dead and a bunch of dwarves with him."

"Good, good," Galbatorix purred. "Then the dwarves with return to Farthen Dûr to bury him the way their religion dictates. That will significantly weaken Nasuada's forces."

"What about the elves?" Murtagh asked.

Galbatorix laughed, dismissing the absurdity with a wave of his hand. "The Elves have not bothered me for years. They're too busy hiding in Du Wendelvarden."

"Eragon was there, in Ellesméra," Murtagh told him. "They changed him. He looks like an elf now."

Galbatorix waved his hand again to indicated that it was of no concern to him. "What happened to the Twins?" he asked.

"Dead," Murtagh answered. "Eragon's cousin, _my cousin_, Roran killed them."

Galbatorix rubbed his chin pensively. "Roran," he whispered, as if contemplating the name. "I sent the Ra'zac to fetch him from Carvahall. They came back with his fiancée. He was capable enough. I wonder," his eyes fell on the last remaining dragon egg. Could he have found the last Rider?

"This one will not turn," Murtagh informed him. "He is as stubborn as Eragon."

"_You_ are stubborn," said Galbatorix. "Both Roran and Eragon will bow to my wishes."

"How do you suppose you will do that?"

Murtagh was sent flying backward onto the floor again. He let out a whimper as his head slammed on the cold marble floor. He groaned, rubbing his temples. He had to think before he spoke. After a few moments he stood up again.

"Have you seen him?" Galbatorix wondered.

Murtagh nodded. "I watched as he swung his hammer into the Twins' skulls," he answered.

Galbatorix smiled. "Midori!" he shouted.

The dark-haired slave girl ran to him. "Yes, My Lord?" she asked timidly.

"Bring me a bowl of water," Galbatorix ordered her.

"Of course, My Lord," she muttered, scurrying off to fetch it.

When she returned, Galbatorix took the water and set it on a stone pedestal. Murtagh, picking up on Galbatorix's intentions, protested, "He's probably protected by the same spell that Eragon is. This is pointless!"

Galbatorix glared at him. "Scry Roran," he ordered.

Murtagh sighed and bent over the bowl of water. "Draumr kópa," he muttered.

The water rippled and eventually showed Galbatorix and Murtagh an image of Roran Stronghammer, Morzan's nephew. He was floating on something invisible, most likely Saphira who was blocked by some magic. After a few moments, he started talking.

"I hope we make it to Helgrind by nightfall, Eragon," he said. "I can't bear another night without Katrina."

Galbatorix's lips curled into a nasty grin. Murtagh looked at him in horror. "You can't be thinking…."

Galbatorix laughed. "Midori!" he shouted, calling for the servant girl again. She ran into the room immediately and took the bowl of water again. The slave girl took the water away in a hurry.

Galbatorix's eyes fell on Murtagh. "You know what we must do," he smiled.

Murtagh lowered his head in reluctant submission. "I'll get Thorn ready."

Galbatorix stopped him. "You've failed me once, Murtagh. I cannot trust you not to do it again."

Murtagh cursed quietly. Galbatorix wasn't as bad as most people thought, but he was truly unhappy in Urû'baen. Galbatorix treated him like a servant, especially since he'd returned from the Burning Plains without Eragon and Saphira.

"Yes, Murtagh," Galbatorix grinned. "I am going to Dras-Leona and Helgrind to capture Eragon, Roran and especially Saphira. If we fail to capture her, the dragons will become extinct. Without Eragon and Roran, the Varden will fall. Then we shall have peace. So go, Murtagh," he ordered. "Prepare Thorn for the journey to Helgrind. We need to make it there before nightfall."

"Yes, My Lord," Murtagh submitted. Resisting Galbatorix while he knew his real name was futile.

"But remember, Murtagh, you are not irreplaceable," Galbatorix hissed.

Murtagh walked out of the throne room and made his way to the stables. He walked past the endless row of horses and reached out to Thorn with his mind. _We're going to Helgrind_, he told the dragon. _Galbatorix's orders._

Thorn snorted. _Your master is not a very good one. First hurting you like that and now he thinks he can just order us around._

Murtagh opened the door to the dragon stables and was nearly blinded by the sun's reflecting on Thorn's bright red scales. _He _can_ order us around like that_, Murtagh told him. _He knows our real names, but maybe you've forgotten._

_Oh bother. _Thorn stretched his legs and let Murtagh put the saddle on him.

_Anyway, Galbatorix is coming with us. He doesn't trust me_. Murtagh continued, fitting the supply bags on Thorn's saddle. It was such a short distance by flying from Urû'baen to Helgrind that they probably wouldn't need that many supplies, but it was better to be safe than sorry. He was just finishing up by strapping Zar'roc to his belt when a servant girl came into the dragon stables. She began to approach Shruikan, but stopped dead when she saw Murtagh.

"Sorry," she muttered, remembering to bow. Murtagh ran his fingers through his dark hair in annoyance. He looked at the girl. She had the undesirable position of being Galbatorix's maidservant. She looked up at him from behind her long, dark hair. Her skin was so pale it was unnatural. She was so frail and thin that Murtagh thought if her arm was twisted the wrong way, it would snap off. He felt sorry for her, but she wasn't the only one that Galbatorix mistreated.

"His Highness sent me to ready Shruikan," she said quietly, trying not to meet his eyes.

"Fine," Murtagh nodded, stepping away from Shruikan so she could do her job.

After a few more moments, Galbatorix came into the stables fully dressed in his regal armor. Murtagh rolled his eyes. He was dressed in a regular tunic and breeches and armed only with Zar'roc and his bow and quiver of arrows. Murtagh mounted Thorn and Galbatorix mounted Shruikan. Then, they were off.

* * *

They had arrived at Helgrind just before dusk. Since then, Galbatorix had been conspiring with the Ra'zac and sent Murtagh to find Katrina. Curious to see what kind of a girl could drive a man on such a crazy mission, Murtagh made his way to where they were holding Katrina. None of the guards even gave him a second glance. It was incredibly silent in the halls and Murtagh felt uneasy. When he arrived at Katrina's cell, he opened the door and stepped inside.

She was a thin, copper-haired, pretty girl chained to the wall with shackles that held her arms above her head. It looked like she hadn't eaten or bathed in weeks. Yet another to be maltreated at the hands of Galbatorix, Murtagh thought grimly. She lifted her head in surprise when Murtagh came into the room. Then she saw the crest on his tunic and narrowed her eyes in hatred. Murtagh pretended not to notice her glare. "Roran's coming for you," he announced.

Katrina's expressed seemed to soften at his words. "What?" she asked in disbelief.

"Roran and Eragon are coming for you," he repeated. "Galbatorix is going to give you back to Roran." That was true, though not a complete explanation. If Roran pleased Galbatorix, he would be reunited with Katrina. There would be no point in telling her the bad news yet.

Katrina's eyes lit up with hope, and Murtagh went over and unshackled her wrists. "Come," he said. "You will not stay here any longer."


	3. Chapter 3: Capture

**Chapter Three: Capture**

"I hope we make it to Helgrind by nightfall, Eragon," Roran said hopefully. "I can't bear another night without Katrina."

Saphira snorted. _I couldn't fly that fast if Galbatorix himself was chasing me. Aberon to Dras-Leona in one day!_

Eragon nodded, relaying Saphira's words to Roran. "I'm sorry, Roran, but it's impossible to make it to Helgrind before nightfall. We'll be lucky to get there by nightfall tomorrow. No, we'll be stopping in Cithrí tonight."

Roran crossed his arms and pouted. "Don't you forget, Eragon, this is all your fault," he said darkly.

Eragon sighed. "I _know_ that, Roran," she said. "That's why I'm coming with you."

Most of the day, the three of them traveled in silence. Roran occupied himself with fantasies of what life would be like once they rescued Katrina. They would probably go on living with Eragon and the Varden in Surda. They could have a life without Sloan, Katrina's treacherous father. After he betrayed them in Carvahall, Roran didn't even care if he hated him.

Eragon's thoughts first fell on Arya. There were two instances in Ellesméra when he had expressed his passionate feelings for Arya and she had furiously rejected him. He knew that he was a human and she was an elf and that he was only a child compared to her. Still, he was a Rider and his life span had been greatly increased because of it. Then, she hadn't even come to say goodbye when he was leaving Aberon that morning. Nasuada's words rang in his head; s_he hasn't been herself lately._ Were his feelings for her still bothering her?

Then there was the task at hand. To rescue Katrina, Eragon knew that he would have to defeat and kill the Ra'zac. That by itself would be a challenge. The Ra'zac were born to prey on humans. Roran's descriptions of what they actually looked like and his story of how they ate Quimby still haunted him. His task would be made even more difficult if Galbatorix or even Murtagh showed up at Helgrind. He just had this foreboding feeling that he'd be seeing Murtagh again soon.

Saphira sensed his restlessness and tried to comfort him. _You are not alone, little one,_ she said. _I'm here. Roran's here too._

Eragon sighed. _I know, Saphira. I know. It's just that, well, Roran won't be much help if we have to face Galbatorix or Murtagh. Even the Ra'zac will be a challenge._

_When you fought Murtagh, much of your strength was already gone,_ Saphira pointed out. _He waited to come into battle until the Empire was losing. He had an unfair advantage over you._

_What's to say he won't next time?_ Eragon asked. _What if I have to kill the Ra'zac and then Murtagh shows himself? He'll be at the same advantage._

_Galbatorix has no reason to believe that we're coming after the girl now. _Saphira comforted him, _He's probably still sitting in Urû'baen._

Eragon sighed again as Cithrí came into view just ahead of them. It was just starting to get dark so they had made excellent time. Eragon nudged Roran, "There is Cithrí." _Take us down, Saphira._

Saphira descended slowly, almost blending in with the dark night sky. Roran gasped in fright and grabbed Saphira's neck to steady himself. _I hope he's more accustomed to flying tomorrow_, Saphira told Eragon. _I can't maneuver as well with him grabbing my neck like that._

Eragon laughed and Roran shot him a quizzical look. Eragon relayed Saphira's concerns and Roran crossed his arms indignantly. "I'm sorry I don't fly around on dragons all day while normal people are trying to save villages from the Empire," he snapped.

_Land on the outskirts,_ Eragon told Saphira. _I don't know whether or not these people know of us or not. I don't know whether King Orrin's told them or not._

_Very well,_ Saphira agreed and touched down outside Cithrí's walls.

Eragon and Roran dismounted. _I'll spend the night in the city with Roran, _Eragon said to Saphira. _I doubt he'll take kindly to the idea of sleeping under your wing._

Saphira nodded. _I understand_.

Eragon turned to Roran. "Come on," he said. "We'll find lodging and supplies in Cithrí. These people should be friendly to us."

Roran nodded and followed Eragon to the city gates, impulsively putting his hand on his hammer. The last few times he'd tried to enter a city, the guards had given him a hard time.

"Who are you and what are you doing walking around outside the city at night?" one of the guards asked them when they reached the gate.

"I'm Eragon Shadeslayer and this is my cousin, Roran Stronghammer," said Eragon.

The guard gave them a funny look. "Eragon Shadeslayer, huh?" he asked disbelievingly. "_The_ Eragon Shadeslayer? Aren't you supposed to be in Aberon?"

Eragon sighed and showed the guard his gedwëy ignasia. "I come from Aberon on Lady Nasuada of the Varden's orders," he told the guard. "I seek lodging and supplies in your city."

The guard looked at his shining palm in awe. "Do you… do you really have the dragon?"

"Yes."

"Come in, then. Come in," the guard said, hastily rushing them into the city. "Lord Smythe will be wanting to see you then. Come on, this way."

Eragon rolled his eyes and looked at Roran. The two followed the guards through the streets of Cithrí and into a large square with a large estate on the other end. The guard led them into the estate and took them to Lord Smythe's study where an eccentric looking old man with long white hair was leaning over a tattered old scroll. The guard cleared his throat and the old man looked up from the scroll.

"What's going on?" he asked the guard wearily through very large spectacles. "Are those two causing you trouble?"

The guard shook his head. "Oh, no, sir! This is Eragon Shadeslayer and his cousin Roran Stronghammer. They've the dragon with them!"

Smythe's eyes lit up with excitement and he rushed over to shake their hands. "Eragon Shadeslayer, very nice to meet you, sir!" he exclaimed, shaking Eragon's hand vigorously.

Eragon returned the shake. "The pleasure is mine, Lord Smythe. I've come to Cithrí for lodging and supplies. We're on our way to Dras-Leona on orders from Lady Nasuada."

"It is my pleasure to give you rooms in my very own estate, Argetlam," he said. "You may help yourself to any of my supplies that you'd like." The old man paused for a moment, as if he'd been waiting to ask this question since they'd arrived. "Where is the dragon?"

Eragon smiled. Everyone always wanted to meet Saphira. "Oh, she's waiting outside the city."

Smythe frowned. "Oh no! That won't do. Tell her to come in immediately, Dragon Rider. I won't have a creature of her majesty sleeping outside my walls!"

"As you wish, My Lord," Eragon said with a smile. _Come on, Saphira,_ he called to her. _There are some people here waiting to meet you._

_Oh, goody,_ she said sarcastically. _More admirers._

They went outside to the large square in front of Smythe's estate to greet Saphira. The dragon descended from the sky with such beauty and grace that even Eragon had to gasp in astonishment. She lowered her head and allowed Smythe and the guard to stroke her head.

_He is a rather interesting looking fellow, _Saphira observed.

"She says it's nice to meet you," Eragon told Smythe, ignoring Saphira's comment.

"Never in my lifetime," Smythe whispered. "I never thought I'd ever meet a dragon. What's her name?"

"Saphira."

"You've made my day, Saphira."

* * *

The next day, Eragon, Roran and Saphira left Cithrí will full stomachs and bulging supply bags. They'd all slept exceedingly well and thanked Lord Smythe for his hospitality when they woke up. They left just before dawn. Rested, the moods of all three of them had lifted. Eragon even felt confident facing the Ra'zac.

"It does my heart good to know that that was my last night without Katrina," Roran said excitedly. "I can't wait to hold her in my arms again."

Eragon spent the journey storing energy in the jeweled belt that Oromis had given him. He was going to need all the strength he could get for the task at hand.

As they got closer to Helgrind, Eragon began to go over strategy with Roran. "Just follow my lead," Eragon told him. "Do whatever I tell you."

Roran frowned in indignation. "Wait a minute, Eragon," he pointed out, "I've fought these desecrators. I know what I'm doing."

"Yes, you may have," acknowledged Eragon. "But you do not have all the experience that I do. I killed a Shade in Tronjheim; I trained with the elves in Ellesméra."

"I heard that Shade had you beat and you only killed him because Arya and Saphira distracted him," Roran said sourly. "Who was it that managed to get the entire village of Carvahall to Surda? Who was it that allowed to Varden to defeat the Empire by killing those evil sorcerers?"

Eragon sighed. "Roran, just listen to me!"

Roran didn't reply. He crossed his arms and stared out into the horizon. It was starting to get dark and the dark silhouette of Helgrind was just visible in the distance.

_You underestimate him, Eragon_, Saphira admonished. _He is capable. Do not assume you are cleverer._

Eragon scowled. "Just don't get yourself killed," he spat at Roran.

The daunting Helgrind came closer to them as Saphira flew on. _Are you ready?_ Eragon asked her.

Saphira nodded. _I am ready._

As they came closer, two flying figures appeared over the tower.

_Lethrblaka_, Saphira hissed.

Roran drew his bow and shot several arrows at the beasts and their riders, the Ra'zac. One of them dipped in the air as the arrow made contact with its chest. Though, it wasn't enough to kill it.

Eragon reached out with his mind as the creatures came closer. Roran had made it obvious that the Ra'zac weren't shielded by magic. That was strange. He thought for certain that some magician inside the tower would be helping them. They were facing a Dragon Rider, after all! He concentrated on the beast that Roran had hit with an arrow. "Thrysta!" he yelled. The lethrblaka shrieked and fell from the sky, bringing its rider with it.

"Good job," Roran shouted to Eragon. "Leave the other one to me."

But Eragon didn't get the chance to answer Roran. Two new figures had appeared. Eragon stared at them in disbelief. He knew their shape all too well. It was two dragons, one black and one red. He didn't have to ask who was riding them.

"It's Galbatorix!" Eragon yelled at Roran. "Galbatorix and Murtagh!" _Get us away, Saphira!_ Eragon panicked. _I can't take both of them at once! Get us out of here!_

Saphira dove, trying to put as much space between her and her enemies as she could, but Thorn and Shruikan chased after her. Roran screamed at Eragon in protest, "What's she doing? We have to save Katrina!"

"Roran, it's no use!" Eragon yelled back. "Neither one of us is match for Galbatorix himself!"

Saphira executed and sharp turn, flapping her wings as hard as she could and flying as fast as she could, but, after a day's journey, much of her strength was gone.

Eragon realized it was hopeless. Somehow, Galbatorix had found them out and had enough time to plan a counter attack. As Thorn and Shruikan continued to gain on Saphira, they heard Galbatorix shout something in the ancient language. He was using his magic against them.

A high-pitched screeching filled Eragon's eyes and he screamed as his entire body was enveloped but intolerable pain and agony. His vision went fuzzy and, eventually, black. He could feel Saphira's pain as well. Galbatorix's spell was draining her of her energy. She'd lost her eyesight too and she couldn't flap her wings anymore. They plummeted to the ground, Galbatorix and Murtagh in hot pursuit. Eragon knew he was losing consciousness. This pain was even worse than what Durza's wound used to do to him. It was unbearable.


	4. Chapter 4: In the Belly of the Beast

**Chapter Four: In the Belly of the Beast**

Eragon's head was aching. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember what had happened. The last thing he remembered was blackness. He couldn't see anything. He reached out with his mind for Saphira, but he couldn't feel her. What had happened? Where was he? Why was he there?

With difficulty, he managed to open his eyes. He was in a small, cold, stone room. He knew he hadn't ever been here before. There were a few torches on the wall that provided him with enough light to see Roran lying motionless on the ground next to him. He reached out with his mind to touch his cousin, but felt nothing, just as he had with Saphira.

Were they both dead?

No, that was impossible. Roran was clearly still breathing; Eragon could tell by the way his chest moved up and down. He checked for a pulse anyway and let out a sigh of relief when he found proof that his cousin was alive. If Roran was still living even though he couldn't feel him, then Saphira must be too. Something was blocking his magic.

All of their weapons had been taken from them.

Eragon winced as his muscles ached in pain when he tried to stand up. He found himself toppling to the ground again and groaned in agony. Whoever had done this to him was even more powerful than Durza. He collapsed against the wall. There was nothing he could do to get out if he couldn't work magic. He tried several times to blast the door open, but that didn't work. He sighed. All he could do was wait for Roran to wake up or for somebody else to come and let them out.

It seemed like hours before Roran stirred. He let out a moan and his eyes fluttered open. He looked around in panic before his eyes fell on Eragon, slumped in a corner. "What's going on?" he demanded.

Eragon shrugged. "I haven't a clue," he answered. "I can't remember a thing."

Roran groaned in despair. "I remember one thing, Katrina."

Katrina.

The name started a chain reaction in Eragon's head. Memories came flooding back to him. Asking Nasuada to leave, Arya's strange behavior, their stay in Cithrí, arriving at Helgrind, killing the lethrblaka, Galbatorix and Murtagh… Galbatorix and Murtagh … Galbatorix had done this to him. Galbatorix had inflicted this terrible pain upon him. Galbatorix was blocking his magic. Galbatorix had captured him and Roran, Saphira too … and Murtagh had helped him.

As if on cue, the door to their cell opened to reveal Murtagh. Eragon's eyes fell on Zar'roc, Morzan's sword that Brom had given Eragon and Murtagh had stolen from Eragon. Then they fell on Murtagh's emotionless face. Eragon's eyes narrowed into a threatening glare. "You…" he whispered angrily.

Murtagh met his gaze and shut the door behind him. "Eragon," he said quietly. "Roran."

Roran growled and lunged at Murtagh despite the after effects of Galbatorix's spell. He howled in pain as Murtagh effortlessly deflected him with magic, sending him flying into the stone wall behind him. Roran yelped in anguish as the rugged stone cut into his back.

Eragon had to restrain himself from lunging at Murtagh too. It was not wise for Roran to attack someone as powerful as Murtagh, especially after Galbatorix had done so much to weaken and afflict them.

"Murtagh," Eragon breathed with his hate heavily in his voice. "What is going on?"

Murtagh looked at Eragon. "You are in Urû'baen, Eragon my brother. King Galbatorix and I ambushed and captured you at Helgrind," he paused and his voice faltered. "You are going to be forced into Galbatorix's service."

"How could you do this to me, Murtagh?" Eragon growled. "You're a good person, don't do this!"

"I didn't have a choice, Eragon!" Murtagh shouted. "How many times do I have to explain my position to you? Galbatorix knows our real names. We cannot disobey him now."

"What is this 'we' you speak of?" Eragon asked bitterly. "We no longer share a friendship."

Murtagh sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I thought that after training with the elves you wouldn't remain so ignorant, Eragon! I don't _want_ this for you! I don't want this for anyone! _I don't have a choice_! You are my brother, Eragon!"

Eragon averted his eyes, unable to bear looking at Murtagh any longer. In his heart, he knew that Murtagh's words were true, but he didn't want to believe them.

Roran moved next to him. He seemed to have recovered from Murtagh's magic. "Katrina…" he breathed. She was all he could think about. "Where's Katrina?"

Murtagh's gaze fell on Roran for now. "She's here. Galbatorix took her away from the Ra'zac," Murtagh explained. "He plans to give her to you."

"At what price?" Roran demanded. "Galbatorix was the one who took her away form me in the first place."

Murtagh was silent for a moment, contemplating whether or not to tell Roran that he had to obey Galbatorix willingly. He sighed. "I do not wish to be the bearer of bad news," he told them sadly.

"Isn't it a little late for that?" Roran spat.

Murtagh ignored him and turned back to Eragon, who was sulking in the corner. "Be wise, Eragon," he advised him. "I do not want to see my brother murdered for no reason." Then he turned and left, leaving Roran and Eragon alone.

For a few moments, neither one of them spoke. Then Eragon broke the silence. "He's just so different than he was before Tronjheim," he said sadly. "That Murtagh was more of a brother to me than this one. Before he was kidnapped, he was willing to do anything to avoid his father and Galbatorix. Now all he wants is for us to succumb to the evil king."

Roran sighed and went to sit next to Eragon. "What does he mean by 'our real names'?" he asked.

"Everyone has a name in the ancient language," Eragon explained. "If someone knows your real name, they can make you do anything. You cannot disobey them."

Roran raised an eyebrow. "So then what Murtagh's saying is right even if he is traitorous slime. He didn't have a choice."

Eragon sighed. "I just don't want to believe it," he said, shaking his head. "I've spent all this time working against Galbatorix and now I'll be forced to work _for_ him. It's unbelievable."

There was a moment of silence before Roran spoke again. "I'll do anything to save Katrina, though," he vowed. "I got her into this. I could have just turned myself in and avoided all this trouble."

"If you had turned yourself in, the Varden would be dead," Eragon pointed out. "They needed you to kill the Twins. If that hadn't happened, Galbatorix would have won."

"Perhaps," admitted Roran. "But I won't abandon Katrina. No matter how far Galbatorix pushes me, I won't give up until I have her in my arms and then I'll slay Galbatorix and end this bloody war."

"That's very noble of you," said Eragon after another pause. "But sometimes we must do what is requested of us. Killing Galbatorix won't end this war. Things are rarely that simple. Besides, you are not strong enough to kill Galbatorix."

"What are you suggesting?" Roran asked.

"I won't say now," Eragon replied. "I cannot be sure we are safe from eavesdroppers. There are magicians somewhere blocking my magic."

"But you'll tell me later?" Roran said hopefully.

"Aye," Eragon agreed. "I'll tell you later."

The two sat in silence for what seemed like hours before two guards came to fetch them. The men were dressed in scarlet tunics bearing Galbatorix's crest. Without any words, they came in and grabbed Eragon and Roran roughly, bound their hands and led them out of the cell. Eragon allowed himself to be led out, but Roran wouldn't do anything without a fight. Eragon shot him an angry look and Roran fell into line.

The guards led them down cold, stone corridor after cold, stone corridor. Eragon tried to remember which turns they took, but soon gave up. His mind wasn't up to it. He still felt sluggish and achy due to the side effects of Galbatorix's spell. It must have been very powerful; Eragon wouldn't have minded learning that one.

Finally, the cold, stone corridors opened up in a monstrous marble throne room. What must have been hundreds of torches on the walls lit the vast room. But Eragon's eyes didn't fall on the beautiful tiled floor or the frescoes on the ceiling, but on the three people at the other end of the hall: Galbatorix, Murtagh and Katrina.

Katrina's expression turned from terror to worry as she saw them bring Roran in. He had obviously been mistreated in some way. Her beloved's hands were bound and she could tell by the way he walked that he wasn't doing well. He was slow and limping and the back of his shirt had been torn to reveal scratches and bruises from when Murtagh sent him into the wall.

Roran returned Katrina's worried gaze. She was deathly pale and looked like she hadn't eaten in weeks. The fact that Galbatorix had dressed her in nice clothes only irked Roran more. It didn't matter; in a few moments, she would be in his arms again.

Murtagh stood at Galbatorix's right hand and watched the scene objectively, looking strangely aloof. He wore clothes almost as nice as Galbatorix himself and Zar'roc was fastened tightly to his belt. Maybe it was just his imagination, but Eragon thought he saw a hint of pity in his impassive eyes.

Galbatorix looked like a god. He was dressed in a silk scarlet tunic trimmed with gold and nice black breeches and boots. A golden and jeweled crown sat on his head and he sat on a gilded throne. He had a black sword on his belt and wore a smug, triumphant grin as he took in Eragon and Roran.

"So this is the great Eragon Shadeslayer?" Galbatorix laughed as the guards brought Eragon and Roran in front of him. "Kneel before your king!" Eragon winced as he felt his legs bend beneath him and he was forced to kneel before Galbatorix. "I must say, I expected you to put up a better fight," Galbatorix taunted them. "I was looking forward to the challenge. Tell me, boy, did the elves teach you to run from your enemies? Answer me!"

"No," Eragon blurted out.

Galbatorix laughed again. "I can tell you are afraid, Shadeslayer, and rightfully so. You have seen my power. I have brought the great Eragon Shadeslayer to kneel before me in chains. I am the ultimate power in Alagaësia!" Eragon bowed his head, not wanting to be tempted into saying something he'd regret later. Instead, he let Galbatorix continue, "It is useless to resist, Eragon." Galbatorix extended a hand to Murtagh. "Your brother once thought he was strong enough to defy me as well. We can all see that he was wrong."

Murtagh lowered his head in shame.

"I am not my brother," Eragon said boldly. "I am not my father either."

"So you have accepted the truth, then?" Galbatorix asked. "Murtagh told me how you denied it. He told me how you begged him to let you go because you were so distraught." Murtagh was shocked. Just two days ago he'd said the same thing to Galbatorix and had been flown across the room!

"I have accepted the truth that my father's identity does not decide my fate," Eragon answered him nobly.

Galbatorix laughed. "Oh, but is does, young Morzansson. Your father's blood runs through your veins. You have the same weaknesses, the same flaws, the same desires. His fate shall be the same as yours."

Eragon tried to appear uninfluenced by Galbatorix's statements. Hastily, he tried changing the subject. "Where is Saphira?" he asked.

"Sedated in the dragon stables," Galbatorix answered. "Don't worry. She will be as easy to control as you."

Eragon forced a laugh. "You will find that holding us is dangerous," he said.

Galbatorix smiled. "Are you still dangerous with your magic subdued?" he asked. "You are no more of a threat to me than a fly is to a dragon. I will let you go for now, Shadeslayer, but tomorrow is the dawn of a new era," he anounced. "Guards! Take Eragon here to his new quarters. There he is to clean himself up and ready himself for his new role as my servant."

With a laugh from Galbatorix, the guards seized Eragon and dragged him out of the room.

Galbatorix's dark eyes fell on Roran now. "Roran Stronghammer," his lips curled into a sly smile. "Is that what they're calling you now?"

"Aye," Roran answered.

"Well then, Roran," Galbatorix said with an especially mischievous gleam in his eye. "I have a special surprise for you. Midori! You may go and get it now."


	5. Chapter 5: Garrow

**Chapter Five: Garrow**

'It' was not a sword, or a club, or a hammer, or a mace, or a knife or dagger. 'It' was not a weapon or any kind, nor was it any torture device, as Roran had feared. 'It' was a polished green stone.

Thoughts raced through Roran's mind as the slave girl Midori brought the stone to Galbatorix. It was not what it looked like. It was not a stone, but a dragon egg. There was no mistaking it. It was exactly as Eragon had described Saphira's egg, except this one was a sparkling emerald green instead of a radiant sapphire blue.

Midori handed the egg to Galbatorix on a fancy red pillow. Galbatorix's evil dark eyes fell on Roran and his lips curled into a sinister smile. "Now, Roran Stronghammer," Galbatorix announced. "We shall see if you were worth the death of one lethrblaka." Galbatorix handed the egg to Murtagh, who eyed it cautiously before walking over to where Roran stood in his tattered clothes. Roran shot Murtagh a furious glare, but Murtagh returned it with an emotionless stare.

"Good luck," Murtagh whispered as he handed Roran the egg.

Roran was a little confused. Good luck? Was holding a dragon egg some sort of test that he needed luck to pass? He looked down at the egg. For a few moments, he thought nothing was going to happen and was a little unsure of what to do with it. Then, suddenly, Roran felt something stir beneath the shell. He looked down again in alarm. There was a faint glow coming from it.

Galbatorix grinned in ecstasy. He had found the last Rider, the last pawn in his scheme.

After a few more moments, a long split appeared in the eggshell and it felt too hot for Roran to hold. He nearly dropped the egg in surprise, but Murtagh was there to catch the egg with the red pillow. Roran looked at his burnt palm and gasped. He had the gedwëy ignasia, or shining palm, just like Eragon.

A clicking sound from the egg brought Roran's attention back to the hatching dragon. Murtagh handed him the pillow with the egg on it and retreated to Galbatorix's right hand. Roran watched in awe as the fragmented pieces of the shell fell away to reveal a tiny emerald green dragon. It snapped its miniature jaws at Roran playfully.

Galbatorix was clapping and Roran looked up to the evil king. "Excellent!" he shouted happily.

Roran narrowed his eyes. He had played right into Galbatorix's trap.

Galbatorix snapped his fingers and several red-robed guards came and took the newborn dragon away. Roran looked to Galbatorix in protest.

"What's going on?" he demanded indignantly. "It's mine isn't it?"

"Yes," Galbatorix answered. "He is being taken to the dragon stables where Shruikan, Thorn and Saphira are waiting for him. They will teach him what is going on and how to be a good dragon. Now, we have more important matters to attend to."

"Oh?" Roran asked curiously. "More important than my dragon?"

"Yes," Galbatorix snapped angrily. He whispered something unintelligible in the ancient language and Roran felt himself being forced to his knees. "You, unlike Eragon, have yet to show with whom your loyalties lie. I am going to make certain that you chose correctly."

Roran glared at him defiantly. "My view of correct is different from yours." Katrina gasped as Roran felt himself being knocked backwards by an invisible force, Galbatorix's magic. He groaned in agony and found the strength the stand again.

Galbatorix was leering at him. "In time you shall learn to respect your master." He motioned to Katrina. "Be careful what you do Stronghammer. One false step and you may never see this fair maiden again."

Both Roran and Katrina gasped in horror. How could Galbatorix even do something like that? Roran didn't even need to think of what to do. He would choose Katrina over his own life. He sighed and lowered his head in submission.

"You see, Murtagh," Galbatorix said. "Even the most stubborn will bend when you apply the right leverage."

Roran's eyes fell on Katrina. If his freedom was what he had to pay for her, than so be it.

"You have chosen wisely, Roran," Galbatorix smiled. "Now swear your fealty to me, the all-powerful king of Alagaësia."

Roran opened his mouth to speak, but Galbatorix stopped him. "You will speak in the ancient language. This way, you cannot lie."

Roran looked at the floor. "I no nothing of the ancient language," he confessed, embarrassed by his ignorance.

Galbatorix raised his eyebrows. "Is that so? Murtagh! Tell him what he is to say." So Roran succumbed to Galbatorix's wishes in order to be with Katrina again and repeated the words of the ancient language after Murtagh. He didn't know exactly what he was saying, but he had some idea. He was pledging himself to Galbatorix. Now he was not able to disobey.

When it was over, Galbatorix released Katrina and undid Roran's bound hands. With tears in her eyes, she ran to him and he embraced her.

"Katrina," he whispered. "I missed you so much."

"How did you get here?" Katrina cried. "What have you done?"

"I'm here now, that's all that matters," Roran told her, yearning to taste her lips again. "You are safe now."

"Roran," Katrina whispered and buried her face in his shirt.

As they melted into each other's arms, for the first time in ages everything felt okay again. For a brief moment, Roran had completely forgotten about Galbatorix, Murtagh, Eragon and the Riders. He had Katrina again, and as he lifted her face to his and felt her lips against his again, all he knew was pure bliss.

But a nagging at the back of his mind caused him to pull away from their loving embrace. Images flashed through his mind, images of the newborn dragon that had hatched in his arms.

"What's wrong?" Katrina asked, seeing his confused expression.

"The dragon," he whispered. "It's in my head. It's sending me images of it. I think it wants me. Come see it with me. Come meet my dragon." His last few words set off an alarm in his head. _His_ dragon. His _dragon_. He was a _Rider_! Roran held Katrina's hand as they left Galbatorix's throne room and followed the series of pictures that the green dragon was sending him. In only a few moments, the two of them stepped into what was called the dragon stables.

Galbatorix's black dragon Shruikan was there, and so was Murtagh's red Thorn. Saphira was there too, and she didn't look too thrilled. In fact, she was livid. The small green dragon was bouncing around happily on her back.

She touched Roran's mind. _Does this belong to you?_ she demanded.

Roran nodded and then noticed Katrina's frightened expression. "Katrina, this is Saphira," he introduced them. "She belongs to Eragon. Saphira, this is Katrina." Katrina stepped forward timidly as Saphira lowered her head. "You can pet her."

"Hello, Saphira," Katrina forced a smile and reached a hand out to stroke Saphira's scaly neck.

Roran looked at the little green dragon. It was so innocent, so happy to be bouncing on Saphira's back, so hapless. It knew nothing of the horrors that would come soon enough, the horrors that only Galbatorix could force upon them.

_He will need a name_, Saphira informed him.

Roran nodded. "A name," he repeated. He turned over possible names for a dragon in his head. Saphira was named after another dragon, Brom's dragon. He knew no other dragons to name this one after. However, he did think of one person that he would like to name this dragon after, to remember. "Garrow," he whispered. "I will call you Garrow." He stroked the little dragon's neck as he said this. The dragon nuzzled him happily in return.


	6. Chapter 6: Hidden Feelings

**Chapter Six: Hidden Feelings**

Why was she feeling so troubled?

Why was she feeling so broken, incomplete?

Why could she no longer think without his face popping up in her mind?

And why could she no longer say that she had no feelings for him in the ancient language?

Why? Why? Why?

Arya simply didn't understand what was going on with herself. Never before had she felt this way or experienced this uncontrollable emotion. She just couldn't explain it. Nothing she'd ever dealt with could have prepared her for the pain that she was going through now, a pain that had all started with Eragon.

Eragon.

Just the thought of him made her heart beat faster.

Ever since she'd shut him down during Agaetí Blödhren, she hadn't felt the same. There was a whole in her heart, a deep, passionate longing for him.

Eragon.

She couldn't go on like this. Nasuada and the Varden needed her counsel.

Eragon.

What in the name of Alagaësia was she thinking? She was almost a century older than him. He was a mere child compared to her, a foolish one at that.

Eragon.

She'd desperately tried to get him to stay, put up a veneer of concerns for the Varden to try and convince him to abandon Roran and Katrina. He'd brushed her off and said that he had no choice, that Katrina's predicament was his fault. As she watched him walk away, it felt as though her heart had been torn in two,

Eragon.

Arya looked over her shoulder. One of Nasuada's messengers was coming into the gardens to find her. Nasuada needed her; the Varden needed her. She could not be like Eragon and abandon them for an emotion as fickle as love.

Was she just admitting that she loved him? No, impossible.

"What is it?" she asked the messenger girl. "Why does Nasuada send for me?"

"Pardon me, milady," the girl said shyly. "Lady Nasuada says she's just received a messenger from Queen Islanzadí."

Arya was immediately interested. "Take me to her," she ordered, and the girl obeyed.

There was a blazing fire in Nasuada's room. Since the Battle of the Burning Plains, Surda's climate seemed to have shifted. It had suddenly become colder and a time where they wished for the cold seemed so far away. Now, they wished for the warmth that they had rejected just weeks earlier.

The fire cast shadows on the three figures in the room. Nasuada sat in her armchair by the fire with the cursed girl Elva at her side. The girl had been doing surprisingly well since Eragon's departure. She was able to sense pain and misfortune sooner and a few more assassination attempts on Nasuada and King Orrin had been foiled since Eragon left.

Eragon.

She quickly threw him from her mind.

Her eyes fell on the third figure. He was an Elf; she could deduce that much from the girl's message. He was cloaked, but removed his hood when he saw her come into the room. He bowed his head in respect for the Elven princess and greeted her, "Greetings, Arya Svit-kona." Arya smiled as she recognized his voice. He put his fingers to his lips and they exchanged the traditional greeting.

"Nari," she whispered. Nari was one of the elves that helped guide them to Ellesméra. Eragon had been there then.

Eragon. Why could she not keep him from her mind?

"Nari comes with an important message from Islanzadí," Nasuada said. Arya looked to Nari, silently begging him to deliver his important message. He obeyed.

"Queen Islanzadí sends her best wishes, Arya Svit-kona," Nari began. "And she wishes that Lady Nasuada and King Orrin know that the elves will once again rise up against the Empire and join with the Varden. She regrets withdrawing her support earlier after Princess Arya's capture. She hopes that it is not too late."

"Certainly it is never too late," Nasuada assured him. "Is there more?"

"Yes," Nari nodded. "Queen Islanzadí says that she is assembling her soldiers and spellcasters. She plans to attack Galbatorix from the north as soon as she is ready. That should at least draw his attention from the Varden for some time."

Arya nodded her head pensively. "Seems like a well thought out plan," she said in approval. Let's just hope it works."

Nasuada nodded in agreement. "Are you going back to your queen, Nari?"

Nari nodded. "I hope to return to Ellesméra in time to march on Urû'baen with my kin."

Nasuada told him, "Send Islanzadí my good tidings and tell her how grateful I am to hear from her. I wish her luck in her endeavor. Everyone knows we'll all need it."

"I'll be sure to tell her, Lady Nasuada," Nari replied.

"I appreciate it, Master Elf," Nasuada smiled. "I wish you well on your return journey. My servants will give you any supplies you may need."

Nari bowed Nasuada. "Thank you for your hospitality, Lady Nasuada," he said and turned to Arya. Bowing, he said, "Farewell, Arya Svit-kona. I shall tell Queen Islanzadí that you are well."

Arya nodded and smiled at Nari. "Say hello to her for me," she said. Nari bowed again and left the room. "I told you they would join us," Arya she told Nasuada with a smug grin.

"And I did not doubt you," Nasuada replied. "Just their timing."

Elva stirred next to Nasuada. The poor girl was shaking. Arya looked alarmed and frightened, but Nasuada knew what was happening. She was sensing misfortune. "Who is it, dear?" she asked gently. "Tell me and we can help them."

"Eragon," she whispered.

Arya froze.

"Something is going to happen to Eragon. He is in great danger. He will experience great pain by nightfall."


	7. Chapter 7: The Kylrians

**Chapter 7: The Kylrians**

_We've found the last Rider._

It warmed Eragon's heart to hear Saphira's voice through their connection again. It seemed that she had finally recovered from Galbatorix's spell. However, her words puzzled him. _What are you talking about?_ he asked.

_The last egg has hatched._

_For who? _Eragon asked eagerly. Could this really be? Now he would have to keep this new Rider from joining forces with the Empire. That might not be easy.

_Roran. He's decided to call him Garrow._

_Roran?_ Well, he hadn't expected that. It was a fortunate turn of events, however. There was no way that Roran would willingly obey Galbatorix, unless of course Katrina was in danger. Scratch that. Galbatorix would know that and the chances of his using Katrina to convert Roran were extremely great. He would have to watch him closely then. _What is going to become of the new dragon? Garrow, did you say?_

_Yes, Roran's named him Garrow. I think Galbatorix wants him to be taught by Thorn, Shruikan and me._

_Keep him as far away from Thorn and Shruikan as possible, _Eragon advised. _We can't afford the Empire's gaining another Rider and dragon._

Saphira agreed. _I shall do my best._

There was a short knock on his door and two of Galbatorix's servants walked in. Eragon looked at them curiously. What could Galbatorix want from him now? "King Galbatorix requests your presence in his throne room, Rider Eragon," the first one said timidly.

"Did he grace you with the reason why I must do this?" Eragon inquired curiously. Last time, Galbatorix had let him off with a warning. Now must be the time that he would force him to swear fealty in the ancient language. Too bad he'd already done so to Nasuada. To do the same to Galbatorix would be lying, that was one thing you could never do in the ancient language.

The second one shook his head. "Lord King Galbatorix rarely trusts us with such things. Now if you'll be so kind as you come now…"

Eragon sighed and stood up obligingly. As he followed the men out, he said one more thing to Saphira. _Be on your guard. Galbatorix will get nothing from me. I already have my mind set on a plan. I'll tell you more later. Right now, I'm being summoned._

_I understand, little one. Be careful. Don't do anything rash._

_Don't worry. _The guards led Eragon down the cold, stone corridors in silence. Why he had been sent two of them, well the only reason he could think of was that Galbatorix thought he would try to escape. However, that was overkill. His plan didn't call for any sort of escape, yet.

News of Roran and his new dragon, Garrow, was good news. Galbatorix wouldn't hurt Roran, at least not yet. He would do all he could to convert Roran to his side of the war. Hopefully, that would be in vain. Eragon hoped that Roran would be smart enough not to try anything either. He still needed to tell Roran his plan.

After moments of traveling the confusing maze of corridors, the guards led Eragon into Galbatorix's throne room. Galbatorix sat there complacently on his throne with Murtagh at his right hand and two new figures on his left. Eragon would've liked to get a look at their faces, but they wore cloaks that shrouded them in darkness. Both Roran and Katrina were gone.

As Eragon stood in the center of the room, Galbatorix stood and called to him. "I trust that by now you have accepted the inevitable, Shadeslayer. The time has come to pledge your allegiance to me, the Rider King of Alagaësia."

"When will you ever learn?" Eragon asked, unable to keep a grim smile off his face. "I will never join you."

"You are foolish, boy. It is useless to resist. It is your destiny," Galbatorix said forcibly.

Eragon shook his head. "No, it is not. My loyalty is with King Orrin, Lady Nasuada and the Varden."

Galbatorix narrowed his dark eyes. "What are you saying, boy?" he sneered.

"I'm saying that I cannot swear my allegiance to you, at least not in the ancient language, because I've already pledged myself to someone else and I cannot lie."

Wordlessly, Galbatorix raised his hand and Eragon was sent flying to the back of the chamber. No scream escaped his lips; he would not satisfy Galbatorix by letting his pain known, but the pain was nearly unbearable. It felt as if the pain he used to feel in his back was paying him another visit, only worse. As he hit the rugged stonewall at the back of the room, wounds opened on his limbs and blood trickled out. His insides were screaming, howling, but he could not let them out.

"That was incredibly stupid of you, boy," Galbatorix hissed when Eragon finally managed to regain his footing and make his way back to the center of the hall. "Tell me, do you want to die? Why else would you do such a thing? You must have known that one day you would find yourself in my clutches and I would ask you to pledge yourself to the Empire."

"The thought occurred to me," Eragon answered. "But pain is easier to live with than knowing you did the wrong thing, especially on such a large scale. I could never sell myself away to such evil, even if it meant saving my life."

Galbatorix laughed. "Young fool, only at the end will you understand," he said before leaning over and whispering something to the taller of the cloaked figures. The cloaked man nodded and stepped forward with his companion.

When he removed his hood, Eragon could see that he was a man. He was old for a human, with long, gray hair cascading down his back and dull, dark eyes. His skin was wrinkled, but nevertheless he possessed an air of great wisdom and Eragon could sense all the powerful magic coming from him. It was nearly overwhelming. He'd never come in contact with a human that possessed that much power. Not even Galbatorix or an elf could compare with this man.

The strange old man seemed to read his thoughts and let out a low cackle that sent chills down Eragon's spine. "You are clever, child," he said with a voice as disturbing as his laugh. "You know that human beings are limited in their abilities with magic. I am no human." Eragon raised his eyebrow and gazed at the man with curiosity. Not a human? He certainly was not an elf or a dwarf. What was he then?

Eragon became even more curious when the old man drew the sword King Orrin had given him and examined it. "It is a fine blade," he said at last. "But not worthy of serving a Rider, oh no. We shall make you a new blade, one more… traditional… in style." Next, he took out the bow that the elves had given him when he visited Ellesméra. He examined just as he had with the sword. However, this one seemed to meet his expectations. "I suppose the elves gave this to you?" he asked without wanting an answer. "This will do I suppose. I've never seen a bow made with more care than those of the elves."

Eragon was thoroughly confused. Briefly, he looked at Murtagh for answers, but Murtagh was watching the strange old man in the cloak and didn't even look at Eragon.

"I see you are curious," the man said to Eragon. "You want to know who I am, and what I am doing here, eh? My name is Suníl and I am not human." He chuckled. "Few have heard of my race. Our numbers in Alagaësia are too few. I am of the great many who came here long ago from Kylria, a realm far, far, far across the sea. This fortress is my home. Rider King Galbatorix is my master. Not even Rider Murtagh has seen me here before. That is why he is puzzled"

His icy gaze moved to Murtagh. "His former teacher, Rider King Galbatorix, will not continue to lower himself by teaching those who do not want to learn. His Excellency has decided to let the most skilled magician in Alagaësia to teach his new underlings. I only wish the third one could be here to hear this. In Kylria, the ancient language does not exist. Kylrese is the language that we use to do our magic. You will learn it or die. Circe will teach you that."

The second figure removed her hood to reveal a dark-haired woman who looked no older than Murtagh. Underneath her raven-black hair, deeply tanned skin and stunning purple eyes, Eragon could sense all that powerful magic in her too.

"The Rider King Galbatorix has asked me to add to Rider Eragon that Circe and I will find a way around your little oath to Lady Nasuada of the Varden. In time, you will learn to call him master."

No sooner had Suníl finished than two guards ushered Roran into the room.

"Rider Roran," Suníl hissed irritably. "It will do you well to learn how to be punctual. My life is coming to its end and I cannot wait for young fools with not concern for others." Roran expressed his sorrow for being late and Suníl repeated his speech about Kylrian magic.

When he had finished, Suníl gave Eragon his weapons back. "You will use that sword until we can forge you a new one. Now, the Rider King Galbatorix commands you and your brother, Rider Murtagh, to fight for his amusement. Rider Roran is dismissed now with reminders to be on time."

Roran bowed and left as Eragon stared across the room at Murtagh as he drew Zar'roc, their father's sword, and stepped down from the raised platform that housed Galbatorix's golden throne. Eragon raised King Orrin's sword and met him in the center of the chamber.

"Dull your blades," Galbatorix reminded them. "I will need you both when I vanquish Surda and the Varden. Murtagh, do not hold back."

Eragon fumbled with the large sword as he tried to block Murtagh's first attack. He hadn't exactly gotten a chance to practice much with this sword. It was bigger and heavier than Zar'roc and he wasn't used to it. However unlikely it seemed, Murtagh must have gotten better in the interim since they'd last faced. With his heavy sword and painful wounds from Galbatorix's attack earlier, Eragon found it difficult to block Murtagh's ferocious and swift attacks. Therefore, the battle didn't last very long at all.

Murtagh's sword met its mark on Eragon's shoulder. Even though the blade was dulled, Murtagh's strength and intensity brought great pain to Eragon and he fell to the floor grasping his shoulder and dropped Orrin's sword. It felt as though one of his bones were broken. But he didn't cry out in pain; he wouldn't allow it.

Victorious, Murtagh stood over Eragon and returned Zar'roc to his sheath. Without a word, he returned to Galbatorix's right hand.

Before he knew it, Eragon was back in the maze of cold, stone corridors being led to his chambers by two guards. This time, they were needed, one to support him in his pain and the other to lead the way. They left him on his bed and went back to Galbatorix.

_You need practice_.

Eragon wasn't in the mood to take Saphira's criticism at the moment. _Murtagh had an unfair advantage. Galbatorix weakened me and I'm not used to fighting with that sword._

_But you are used to fighting Murtagh._

There was another knock on the door. "Come in," Eragon called in exhaustion.

The Kylrian girl walked in. What was her name again? Circe. "Are you okay?" she asked as she walked over to his bed.

"I'm fine," Eragon lied.

She smiled knowingly. "You can't fool a Kylrian. Our magic enables us to see right through your lies," she said. "Now let me help you with that nasty broken bone in your shoulder."

Eragon sighed and decided that it was best to just let her heal it. He removed his tunic so she could have a clear shot at the injury. She laughed. "I appreciate the help, I don't need it."

Eragon gaped at her. "Your magic is that strong?"

Circe nodded and closed her eyes. Within a minute or so, the sharp pain in his shoulder stopped. "You'll need to go easy on it for a few days," she told him as she opened her eyes. "Other than that, you'll be perfectly normal again."

Eragon was amazed. Not even the best elven healer could have done that.

"Is there anything else you'd like?" she asked kindly. "Your first few days in this castle will be rough."

"Can you tell me more about your people? What other amazing feats can you pull off?" he asked letting his curiosity get the best of him.

Circe smiled. "Our most amazing achievement as shape-shifting. As far as I know, we are the only race to ever master shape-shifting."

"You're shape-shifters?" Eragon asked in awe.

She nodded. "It is essential. We need to shape-shift to stay alive. In our natural form, we are albino, sickly creatures that can be very easily controlled. All Kylrians change their shape as soon as they can."

"So is your real shape like our real names? If someone sees you in your real shape they can make you do whatever they want?"

"Kind of," she answered. "Just seeing us in our real form won't do anything. The manipulator has to be strong enough to keep us there, to stop us from changing shape. We're only controllable when we're in our real form."

"When did your people first come to Alagaësia?"

"A very long time ago."

"Why haven't I heard of them then?"

"A long time ago, before the Elves fought the dragons, they fought a brutal war against the Kylrians. We Kylrians may have superior magic, but put a weapon in our hands and you'd probably be better off with a human child fighting. My family was the only clan to survive and since then, we've been afflicted with disease. My father and I and the only Kylrians left in Alagaësia."

"But if you have superior magic, how can Galbatorix control you? Why don't you overthrow him?"

"Only my father is stronger than Galbatorix because I'm only half Kylrian. My mother was a human. My father is too afraid to speak out against him because Galbatorix will do something horrible to me. He is continually draining my father of his magic and my father is too frightened to stop him. Soon enough, my father won't have any magic left and then Galbatorix will have control over me anyway."

"But if Suníl doesn't have any magic left, then he won't be able to shape-shift, will he?"

"No," Circe answered somberly. "Then he will be nothing and Galbatorix will have complete control of him. Galbatorix grows stronger as Suníl grows weaker. But I shouldn't have told you that."


	8. Chapter 8: Plotting Little Sneaks

**A/N** Yes, I will answer that question now before it even gets asked. Kylrese is modeled after French, the language that I'm taking in high school. I figure this might help me a little. No, I don't own it and I never will.

**Chapter Eight: Plotting Little Sneaks**

Circe left soon after that, but not before Eragon told her about his adventures with Saphira. A few moments after she left, Roran came in and sat down on the edge of his bed. He didn't waste any time.

"I want to know what you're planning," he demanded. "You need to tell me if you want my help."

Eragon sighed. "Atra nosu waíse vardo fra eld hórnya," he said. Let us be warded from listeners. Then, he looked at Roran. His cousin looked better than he had in a long time, or at least better than Eragon had seen him in a long time. But who wouldn't after being reunited with their fiancée and having a dragon egg hatch for them?

Roran looked around the room, puzzled by Eragon's words in the ancient language. Then he returned his eyes to Eragon. "Anytime you're ready."

"It's very simple," Eragon started. "But the key requires a great deal of will power. We are _not_, under any circumstances, to attempt to escape or to harm Galbatorix in any way, at least not yet. However, it is essential to resist his authority as much as possible so he doesn't suspect anything. He expects us to rebel against him. If we don't he'll know we're planning something."

Roran thought it over for a few moments. "Between Galbatorix and those Kylrian witches how are we supposed to keep ourselves from being found out?"

"I'll have to teach you how to shield your mind from enemies," Eragon answered. "With practice you should be able to keep yourself out of trouble."

Roran nodded. "But what else then? We can't spend the rest of our lives here. You _must_ have something else planned."

"I do," Eragon replied. "Eventually, Galbatorix is going to send us off to fight against the Varden. I don't think he will go himself. We will go, we will fight, but not for him. That is when we strike. We must ensure the Varden's victory by cutting down as many Imperial troops as possible. When the battle is over, we never again return to Urû'baen."

Before Roran could say anything else, the door to the room opened and Murtagh stepped in. Eragon glared at him. If looks could kill, Murtagh would be dead. There was an uncomfortable silence before Murtagh finally spoke. "Circe told me she fixed your shoulder."

Eragon snarled, "She wouldn't have had to if you hadn't broken it."

Murtagh responded by repeating the line he'd been saying to Eragon since they'd met on the Burning Plains. He answered calmly, "I had no choice."

Eragon nearly jumped out of bed and strangled him. "How can you keep saying that?" he demanded. "I'm lucky there was a good healer around!"

"You heard Galbatorix," Murtagh said, becoming more irate and impatient with his little brother. "You know I've had to swear fealty to him in the ancient language. I cannot disobey him. You heard him tell me not to hold back!"

Eragon lowered his gaze. "Sorry," he muttered.

Murtagh came further into the room. "What's going on?" he asked. "You two look rather suspicious."

"Can we trust him?" Roran whispered to Eragon. "He could be a powerful ally."

Murtagh's mind was closed, making it impossible for Eragon to find his real motives. "Can we trust you," he asked. "Answer in the ancient language."

"Yes," Murtagh answered in the ancient language. "Galbatorix is my enemy just as he is yours. When I met you on the Burning Plains, I was only following orders that I am bound by magic to obey."

"He speaks the truth," Eragon said to Roran.

"Then let him in on the plan," Roran replied.

"Plan?" Murtagh said with a small chuckle. "I should have known you were planning something from the very moment you were brought in here."

Eragon glared at Roran. "I'm not sure that's wise-"

"Eragon's planning to desert when Galbatorix sends us to battle," Roran blurted out.

Murtagh raised his eyebrows. "Run away during battle?" he asked with a small grin. "That might be difficult to pull off."

Eragon shot one last glance at Roran before moving his gaze to Murtagh. He sighed, realizing that Roran had been right. Murtagh had been in Urû'baen much longer than them and knew the inner most secrets of the Empire. They would probably need his help. He explained the rest of the plan to Murtagh.

"So will you help us?" he asked him.

Murtagh walked around the room slowly at first, contemplating Eragon's words. "I have already said that Galbatorix is no friend of mine. I have been here for a much longer time than you and have always wanted to escape. But I never thought of deserting the army in battle and running away to Ellesméra and Duweldenvarden. You might just have a brilliant idea there."

"So you'll help us?" Eragon asked hopefully.

Murtagh nodded. "But I'm afraid that won't be enough. Galbatorix will come looking for us because he'll know we've run away. We'll need an expert magician to feed him images of our deaths from afar, one that hates Galbatorix as much as us."

"Do you know anyone like that?"

Murtagh nodded his head again. "I do actually," he said and walked out the door.

Roran left soon after him. "I'm going to talk to Katrina," he said.

_It's a well conceived plan_, said Saphira. _Murtagh should be a great help._

Eragon agreed. _I just hope this sorcerer he speaks of is will be as loyal as he hopes._

"Atra nosu waíse vardo fra eld hórnya," Murtagh said as he sat on the floor of his rooms with Circe. They were in the middle of one of the Kylrese lessons. She looked a little puzzled as to the reason why Murtagh had used the ancient language, one that she did not understand, but didn't say anything more. She continued with her teaching. It was her first lesson with Murtagh; actually it was the first lesson she had ever given at Galbatorix's palace. She didn't start with Roran and Eragon until the next day.

She started by teaching him the subject pronouns: je for I, tu for a singular and informal you, il for he, elle for she, on for one, nous for we, vous for the plural or formal you, ils for a masculine they and elles for a feminine they. Then she talked about être, the verb 'to be' that had an irregular conjugation: je suis, tu es, il est, elle est, on est, nous sommes, vous êtes, ils sont and elles sont. Then, they moved on so some easier, regular verbs.

"Détester is a regular verb that means to hate," she explained. "It's pretty easy to conjugate: je déteste, tu détestes, il déteste, elle déteste, on déteste, nous détestons, vous détestez, ils détestent et elles détestent."

"So would I be correct in saying," Murtagh asked, "'Je déteste Galbatorix'?"

"Oui," she replied, using the Kylrese word for 'yes'. "If you really do hate Galbatorix."

"Oui," Murtagh answered, catching on quickly and trying to steer the topic of conversation toward hating Galbatorix. "Je déteste Galbatorix beaucoup. Tu déteste Galbatorix aussi?" I hate Galbatorix very much. Do you hate Galbatorix also?

"Oui, je déteste Galbatorix aussi. Pourquoi? Why?"

"Can I trust you not to turn me in to Galbatorix?"

"Oui, of course," she answered.

"Eragon, Roran and I are planning to escape," he told her. Even though he hadn't known her long, Murtagh felt a special connection with Circe, like he could trust her with his life. He felt like they shared this special bond forged by anger towards Galbatorix. He had used both of their fathers, had he not?

Circe gasped. "Escape? When, where and how?"

"When he sends us into battle," Murtagh explained. "We're not coming back."

"But he will know," she said. "He will know and send legions after you to bring you back."

"I know and that's why we need you."

Her eyes widened in shock for a second before changing to express curiosity. "Need me?" she asked. "What do you need me for?"

"There is no doubt that Galbatorix will be watching the battle from here. He will see us desert the army and send legions to bring us back as you have already said. If we had a superb sorcerer, like you, they could send him fake images of our deaths and then we would be free."

"You are willing to fake your own death to escape the Rider King?" she asked in amazement. "Tu déteste Galbatorix à la foile! Till you're crazy!"

"Will you help me or not?"

"Je ne sais pas; I don't know," she answered, obviously thinking about it in her mind. "My father would be devastated. I would have to fake my own death too. The only reason my father serves Galbatorix is to protect me. He loves me so much. It might kill him."

"If what you told Eragon before is true, then your father would die anyway. I doubt Galbatorix would keep a sickly old creature with no magic left around for very long. I've seen the way Galbatorix looks at you. I know what your father hopes to protect you from by serving him. Soon, there will be nothing to stop him if you stay here. There is nothing good for you left here."

"How do you know what I told Eragon earlier?" she asked in an accusing tone.

Murtagh lowered his gaze temporarily. "That's not important."

"You spied on me!" she accused and raised her voice. "Murtagh, I can't believe you spied on me!"

"I didn't know what to make of you," Murtagh tried to explain. "You were new. You'd managed to live in this castle for ages without my knowing. You're a species that I've never even heard of. Can't you forgive a mere human's curiosity?"

Circe stood up. "I will meditate on this Murtagh. My mind is not made up yet. Lessons will resume tomorrow. I suggest you take some time to sort through your thoughts and get your priorities back in order."

Murtagh stood up too. "Fine," he agreed. "But before you make up your mind, think about this: your father is not the only one who cares about you," he said and walked out of the room without waiting for her to reply.

He was frustrated as he climbed the stairs to Eragon's room. Circe would have to be watched now. She knew of their plan to desert and betray the Empire. If she told Galbatorix he would give them all orders to return back after the battles were over and they would all have to obey, well all of them except for Eragon.

But Murtagh had a funny feeling in the pit of stomach. He didn't believe Circe would turn them over to Galbatorix because she hated him so very much because of what he was doing to her father. He'd probably just caught her off guard and she was shocked and maybe a little annoyed with him.

Still, now that she knew of their plan, she would have to either join them or die.


	9. Chapter 9: Symbols & a Reason

**Chapter Nine: Symbols of the Legacy and a Reason to Rebel**

"She said no?" Eragon demanded of Murtagh in shock.

"No, not exactly," Murtagh corrected him quietly. "She said she didn't know."

Eragon nearly screamed with frustration and would have if Saphira had helped to calm him down. Murtagh had promised them that the sorceress he had in mind would definitely agree to help him. The problem was that that sorceress was Circe and she said she didn't know what she would do. Eragon was sure that his brother knew the risks he was taking, but he'd gone and done it anyway. Circe could turn them over to Galbatorix at any moment and they could be executed for treason!

Eragon shook his head in dismay as Roran and Katrina came into the room. Roran concluded from one look what had happened.

"She said no, didn't she?" he asked grimly.

Eragon nodded, but Murtagh corrected him with indignation, "She said she didn't know."

"You do know, Murtagh, what this means?" Eragon asked in frustration. "You do realize the danger we're all in now, don't you?"

Murtagh stood up and looked down on his little brother. "Need I remind you that _I_ am the elder son of Morzan, not you, Eragon. Do not talk down to me like that or _I_ might decide to turn you over to Galbatorix. Of course I knew of the risks. Of course I know what this means. But I will have you know that I myself have been watching Circe. Whether it is by scrying or spying, I have kept my eye on her. She has not betrayed us, and I do not believe that she will."

Eragon, Roran and Katrina were a bit surprised by Murtagh's words.

"You've been _spying_ on her?" Eragon gasped. "Are you sure that is wise? She must know you've been watching her. She is a highly skilled sorceress you know. How do we know she isn't sending you false images, just like we planned to do with Galbatorix when we desert the army?"

Murtagh didn't answer right away. He lowered his gaze and sat back down between Roran and Eragon. "I trust her," he answered finally. "She doesn't have anything to gain by turning us over. I think she will agree to help us eventually. She has much to gain by that, and little to lose."

The group sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity before Roran broke the uncomfortable lack of conversation with some better news: "Katrina has agreed to come with us," he said with a smile.

Eragon looked to Katrina and she nodded. "I will do what I can to help you," she assured them. "It may not be much, but I'll do what I can."

Eragon nodded approvingly. "Saphira tells me that Garrow is coming along nicely," he said.

Roran nodded. "Now I understand why you were so fascinated with Saphira that you ran away with her and left my father to die," he told him. "They're magnificent creatures, dragons are. Garrow can't speak yet and he's only a bit bigger than a common steed, but he's marvelous."

"Aye," agreed Murtagh. "But only when they're not working for evil."

Eragon nodded in agreement with his brother. "I cannot stress enough the importance of keeping Garrow away from Shruikan. Even though he's only bewitched to obey Galbatorix, he is still a bad influence on him. Even Thorn should be watched."

Murtagh rose indignantly again. "What do you mean to say by that? Comparing my Thorn to that Shruikan! I may have never heard something so absurd!"

Eragon tried to explain without infuriating Murtagh any more. "I just meant that, whether you meant to or not, Thorn was influenced by Shruikan and…"

"And what?" Murtagh demanded. "That some of his _'badness'_ will wear of on Garrow? I will have you know that Shruikan did not influence Thorn. The two barely ever came in contact. It was only recently that Shruikan was even allowed in the dragon stables with him. I taught Thorn much like you taught Saphira. He has no disease or whatever you think is wrong with him."

Eragon sighed. He had been made wise beyond his years at the Agaetí Blödhren in Ellesméra and now felt like he was the older brother dealing with his belligerent, younger brother Murtagh. But that was not the case. Whether he knew it or not, Murtagh _had_ been influenced by Galbatorix. Eragon saw it especially at times like this, when everyone didn't agree with him. Maybe it was a family trait, something he'd inherited from Morzan, but either way, Galbatorix had exploited it in Murtagh while the elves had squished it out of Eragon.

When Eragon didn't reply to Murtagh, the older son of Morzan stormed out of the room in rage. He slammed the door behind him and stalked down the cold stone corridors, passing countless servants without giving them as much as a second glance.

Thorn was nagging at his mind. _The girl's here. She seems upset._

_Circe?_ Murtagh asked. One of the ways he was keeping an eye on her was through Thorn. _What in the blazes is she doing down there? _Murtagh didn't wait for an answer from his dragon friend. Immediately, he set off toward the dragon stables.

* * *

Immediately after Murtagh left, Eragon and Roran received a summons from Galbatorix's throne room. Now, the two of them stood in the center of Galbatorix's throne room, in front of the Rider King in all his evil glory.

Neither Suníl nor Circe was there, but two other servants took their places at Galbatorix's left hand. Murtagh's place at his right was empty, but the servants on the left each held a red velvet pillow with a sheathed sword balanced in the middle.

Galbatorix rose from his throne and drew his sword from its sheath. It looked almost exactly like Zar'roc, with a few variations. However, its blade and hilt were not the blood red of Zar'roc, but a deep, solid black, the same shade as Shruikan's scales. He examined it briefly before turning his attention to the two young Riders standing in front of him.

"Ever since the elves' wars with the dragons many, many years ago, the Dragon Riders have been guardians of peace and justice in Alagaësia," he declared, raising his ebony sword high above his head. "For all those long years, the Riders have borne these traditional elven swords, symbols of their everlasting legacy across the Realm."

Now he paused in order to be dramatic. "Unfortunately, the elves have turned their allegiance against the Empire and locked themselves away in Du Weldenvarden, a forest too vast and magical for any sane man to enter alone. Therefore, my mages and craftsmen have been unable to unlock the deepest secrets of these ancient elven blades and have only created mere imitations of these great weapons, but I, the Rider King Galbatorix of Alagaësia, present them to you now."

On Galbatorix's command, the two servants came forward and presented the two swords to Eragon and Roran. Cautiously, Eragon took his and examined it.

It was indeed the same type of blade as Zar'roc complete with colored blade and magical gems in the hilt. Just as Zar'roc's blade was red to match Morzan's dragon, this one was a deep sapphire blue, the same shade as Saphira's gleaming scales. Its hilt was adorned with brilliant sapphires that Riders could use to store excess energy and draw upon it when they needed it later.

Roran's was also well made. His blade matched Garrow's green scales, and the hilt shone with the brilliance of emeralds. Eragon's cousin examined the sword with awe and respect, but Eragon knew he really just wanted the hammer than had given him his last name back.

Eragon raised his head and locked his eyes with Galbatorix.

"I hope you do not think this will buy my allegiance," he said. "I cannot break my oath to Lady Nasuada."

Galbatorix glared back at him. "You would do well to know that my best mages are looking into breaking your pathetic little oath," he sneered. "You may find that Kylrese is more powerful than the ancient language that has dominated magic since the beginning of time."

"You can be sure that I certainly will not send you to fight until you have sworn your allegiance to me," Galbatorix's words sent chills down Eragon and Roran's spines. He either knew what they were planning or was smarter than they thought and had thought of it on his own. "Oh, yes," Galbatorix answered, seeing the shocked looks on their faces. "The fighting is coming, and swifter than you both think."

"My intelligence tells me that the elves are marching for Gil'ead and Isenstar Lake," Galbatorix informed them. "Murtagh and Roran will meet them there in a week or so with legions of my best troops. Eragon will go too if that incompetent Suníl can find a way around elven magic."

Eragon's thoughts were racing. This was coming too soon, he thought frantically. They hadn't gotten a definite answer from Circe yet and Galbatorix was planning on not sending him if he was still bound by Nasuada's oath. That had to be taken care of before anyone went anywhere.

* * *

Circe was down in the stables, all right, but not in the dragon stables where he thought she would be from Thorn's message. She was in the next set of stalls over from the dragon stables, stroking her father's black steed. A dark, black velvet cloak was wrapped over her shoulders, her hood was pulled over her dark hair and Murtagh saw her body shaking underneath it. He could hear her sniffing and crying from the doorway.

The young Kylrian witch gave no indication that she knew Murtagh was there, and Morzan's son hung back for a few minutes, watching her. This did not look like a girl that would betray them to Galbatorix.

After a few more moments, Murtagh moved towards her and rested his hand on her shaking shoulder. She didn't jump in surprise like he expected her to. In fact, she didn't even turn to look at him. Murtagh should have known she could tell he was there through her magic.

As her sobs seemed to calm down and become quieter, he leaned in to ask her a question, "What's wrong?" Murtagh hoped his voice sounded as tender and caring as he had intended it to.

She immediately erupted into tears again and Murtagh looked up in shock. Was it something he said? Why did 'what's wrong' make her start to sob again? He sighed in confusion and patted her back as he tried to be comforting.

Finally, after it seemed like she had calmed down again, she felt strong enough to answer his question. "I assume you know from your spying," she began, "that Galbatorix can drain the strength of any mage, that as his strength waxes, my father's wanes."

Murtagh nodded silently, wishing she would continue. "Then you would also know that Kylrians depend on their magic to stay alive?" she asked and Murtagh nodded again.

"What has happened?" he asked.

"Galbatorix is angry," she said grimly, her voice still shaking. "He's furious that my father has not yet found a way around Eragon's oath to Nasuada. He claims that if he had more power that he could do it himself…"

Murtagh was slowly beginning to piece together the parts of Circe's puzzle as tears fell from her violet eyes and landed on the straw covered stone floor. "My father is dying, Murtagh," she said, looking up at the Rider for the first time since he came down to talk with her. Sadness overwhelmed her tearstained face.

Murtagh lowered his head in respect for Suníl. "How can you be sure? How can Galbatorix have sapped him of so much magic so quickly?"

"The Rider King is much more powerful than even you know," she answered. "My father has little life left in him. He is weak and can barely walk. His skin is as white as the moon and his eyes have gone back to their native red. He has lost his vital ability to change his shape," the tears were coming back now. "He has little time left," she managed to say.

Murtagh wrapped his arms around her consolingly and the young mage leaned her head on his chest in grief. Murtagh let her cry for a little while longer before breaking away from their embrace and wiping her tears.

"We have to get you out of here," he whispered, standing up and taking her hand. "Now there's nothing to stop Galbatorix from having his way with you."

Circe drew her hand back and stared at him defiantly. "Please, Murtagh," she said quietly. "You have to understand that I will not leave my father to die alone. Let me stay by his side until his spirit departs from this tangible realm. Then I will join your rebellion."

* * *

Eragon sat in his room, twiddling his thumbs and discussing their plans with Roran and Katrina when Murtagh came into the room with Circe right behind him. Eragon raised his eyebrows and gave Murtagh a perplexed look.

"Something terrible has happened, but, like all suffering, it has brought about fortunate events," Murtagh anounced.

Everyone in the room turned to look at Circe, but quickly averted her eyes.

"My father is dying," she said quietly. "Now there is nothing left to stop Galbatorix from harming me, and I have decided to leave this place with you."

"I told you so," Murtagh harried Eragon. "I told you she would join us."

"As good as it may be to be graced with your blessing," Eragon said to Circe. "Another issue has risen."

"Galbatorix refuses to send Eragon away until his oath to Nasuada has been broken," Roran explained.

Murtagh sighed in frustration and began pacing around the room thoughtfully. After a few moments of silence, he stopped and looked at Circe. "You said he's counting on you and your father to crack this code?" he asked.

Circe nodded. Murtagh continued, "Could you feed him false information? Make him think that Eragon has sworn allegiance to him?"

Circe hesitated. "It would be difficult to trick him, especially after he has drained my father of all his strength and magical ability."

"Are you willing to try?" Eragon asked, his eyes focused intently on the young Kylrian. She had proved herself to him once before, when she healed him after a fight with Murtagh, but he still didn't quiet trust her.

After another moment's hesitation, Circe nodded. "I am willing to do all I can to bring about the downfall of the man who killed my father," she promised them all.

"It's all settled then," Roran said finally. "It looks like we've got a plan."


	10. Chapter 10: To Break an Oath

**Chapter 10: To Break an Oath**

Galbatorix killed Suníl a month later.

Eragon and Roran were furious; Murtagh was worried. If Galbatorix had killed Suníl, Circe still hadn't told him how to get by Eragon's oath to Nasuada. It had been a month since they had given her that job and she still hadn't done it. She had seemed so eager to help during their last meeting. They forced Murtagh to find out why she hadn't done her part yet.

She was right where he thought she would be, sitting with her late father's mount in the stables. Thorn had told him that. She wore all black as a sign of mourning. Her eyes seemed distant, like they weren't staring at anything in particular. At least she wasn't crying.

Murtagh walked over and sat down next to her. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, hoping to help her get over her father's death and get her mind back on their rebellion. "I'm sure he was a good man… err… Kylrian."

Circe sighed. "I'm all alone now, Murtagh," she said dejectedly. "My father was the only one I had, and now he's gone. Galbatorix doesn't care about anyone but himself."

"Don't say that," Murtagh told her. "I care."

"I mean that I'm the only Kylrian left in Alagaësia," she explained sadly. "And I'm not even a pure blood. I didn't mean to imply that you don't care. You're the only friend I have here."

Murtagh felt himself smile. "I'd rather have one friend than none. There's no reason to just give up, Circe, listen to me. It's not over yet." He put his hand on her shoulder; she was shaking. "Why have you not told Galbatorix how to get by Eragon's vows?"

Circe turned her eyes away from Murtagh. "I'd rather not talk about it."

"It would have saved your father's life," Murtagh told her. "Why didn't you tell him?"

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. Circe started trembling even harder and tears formed in her eyes. "I don't believe it. It's all my fault," she lamented. "Why didn't I just face him? I killed my own father!"

Murtagh shook his head, immediately regretting what he had said. "No, no, no," he said, trying to be soothing. "That's not what I meant!"

"But it's true," Circe whispered in horror.

Murtagh sighed. "Maybe so," he said calmly. "But you can't change the past. Do you want your father to have died in vain?" Circe shook her head no. "Then you've got to lie to Galbatorix, help get Eragon out of the castle."

Circe sighed. "I am afraid," she admitted, not looking at Murtagh.

"Afraid?" he asked. "Look I know Galbatorix is intimidating…"

"No," she cut him off. "It's not like that. With my father dead, even when he was weak and dying, there's nothing to stop Galbatorix from hurting me. You said yourself that you've seen how he looks at me. You know what he wants from me."

Murtagh suddenly understood. That was the very reason why he wanted to get her away from the palace. How could he not have guessed?

"He's done it before," Circe whispered in terror. "That's why Suníl started selling his magic for my protection. Now, I'm afraid that when I tell him, he'll do it again. There'll be nothing to stop him."

"And I understand that," he said. "Eragon understand and Roran understands," he lied. "But you have to face your fear. If not, you will live with them for the rest of your life! Is that what you want?"

She shook her head. Murtagh continued, "Then go now and tell him. You are still a servant in this castle, and Galbatorix made me his heir. I order you, Circe, you must do this now."

She rose solemnly, looking much like the incarnation of death with her black, flowing gown and cloak. Her expression was one of sad gravity and she stared at Murtagh and bent her knees in a fake curtsy. "As you wish, _My Lord_," she said, spitting out the last words with venom. Without another word, she strode out of the room, leaving Murtagh speechless behind her.

_That was not very wise_, Thorn's voice echoed through his mind. _You cannot afford to make her an enemy. After Galbatorix, she is the most powerful mage in the land._

Murtagh walked into the dragon stables shaking his head. He glared at Thorn. _She's not going to do anything to hurt us. She's not brave enough._

Thorn snorted. _You know very well that she hates people who boss her around. That's why she's helping you, to get rid of Galbatorix._

Saphira touched his mind too. _Eragon and Roran are waiting for you. They want to have another meeting._

_Tell Eragon I'm on my way up then,_ Murtagh said grumpily. Who had made Eragon in charge of this rebellion?

_Maybe he's in charge because it was his idea? _Thorn mused.

_Shut up! _Murtagh shouted as he made his way up to Eragon's room.

"Finally," Eragon said as Roran walked into the room. "I called you fifteen minutes ago."

"Sorry," Roran apologized with a goofy smile on his face. "I was with Katrina."

"Oh," Eragon said, wistfully thinking of Arya. She'd been on his mind a lot in the past month. It seemed that everytime he saw Roran and Katrina together, he thought of Arya. But what was he so hopeful for? Arya had made it clear that she had no romantic interest in him.

Roran sighed. "It's Arya again, isn't it?" he asked.

Eragon nodded glumly. "I just feel jealous I guess. I mean, you've got Katrina. Saphira's been looking at Thorn differently and it's obvious that Murtagh cares about Circe…"

Roran nodded. "Look I know how it feels to be separated from the one you love. Remember how Katrina and I were separated? I would say not to give up hope, but if Arya made it clear that she doesn't have any feelings for you… you aren't doing yourself any good."

"That doesn't make me feel any better," Eragon said dryly as Murtagh walked into the room and closed the door behind him.

Murtagh took one look at Eragon's sad face and turned to Roran. "He's upset about Arya again. Isn't he?" he asked. Roran nodded. "It's kind of pathetic," Murtagh said. "I mean, she doesn't even feel the same way."

Eragon glared at his older brother. "Oh yeah," he said sarcastically. "You're doing a whole lot better with Circe."

Murtagh looked shocked. "What are you talking about?" he demanded.

"Oh don't act like you don't know," Eragon said with a sly smile. "We've seen the way you look at her, heard the way you talk about her."

Roran mocked him, " 'Oh, Circe will never turn us in! She could never do that; she's too nice and sweet and kind and beautiful!'"

"Shut up!" Murtagh said angrily. "Is this why Saphira sent me up here? To be made fun of?"

"Hey, you started it," Roran pointed out.

"Aye," Eragon agreed. "But no, this is not why I asked you to come to a meeting. I want to know what Circe told you. Why has she waited to tell Galbatorix how to break Eragon's oath?"

Murtagh sighed and sat down. "She is afraid," he said simply.

"Afraid?" Eragon asked in disbelief. "That's it? She's afraid? I know Galbatorix is scary and everything, but that's why she waited? She seemed so eager to help a month ago. I would have never guessed anything was wrong. She continued with our lessons and everything."

"You do not understand," Murtagh said gravely. "I know that she told you about how her father was selling his magic to Galbatorix to protect her, but do you know what he wanted to protect her from?"

Both Eragon and Roran went silent at Murtagh's serious tone and shook their heads no.

"Shortly after they came to the palace, Galbatorix raped her," Murtagh continued quietly. "Suníl was furious and started selling his magic in order to protect his only child from Galbatorix. Now that her father's dead, Circe is terrified to even go near Galbatorix. She says that she was even scared to before her father died."

There was a moment of silence before Eragon said, "That may be so, but she should have risked it anyway for the sake of our rebellion. We cannot afford to waste time like this. Galbatorix-,"

"Could send us into battle at any moment?" Murtagh finished his sentence for him. "Yes, Eragon, we all know that. But give her a break. Nobody's perfect. Not even Arya."

Eragon seemed to shrink back a little, but he looked like he would have bitten Murtagh if a messenger boy didn't come into the room.

"Rider Eragon, sir," the servant said as the three turned to look at him. "The Rider King Galbatorix has sent me to bring you to him along with Rider Murtagh and Rider Roran. He wishes your presence in the throne room."

"Circe's done her part then," Murtagh whispered to Eragon as the servant led them through the labyrinth of hallways toward the throne room. "This must be about breaking your oath to Nasuada."

"Then why does he want you and Roran too?" Eragon asked.

"He must be sending us away right after this," Murtagh mused. "The elves must have definitely reached Isenstar Lake by now."

Galbatorix watched from his gilded throne as Eragon, Roran and Murtagh were brought before him. He was smiling down at them, happy that Circe had told him how to break Nasuada's oath. Little did he know that she'd given him false information.

Murtagh noticed one thing out of place in Galbatorix's court. Circe wasn't standing at Galbatorix's left hand like she usually did. Where was she? What had Galbatorix done to her? Then he saw it, the magical cage sitting on a pedestal where Circe should have been. There was a black cat inside. Murtagh suddenly felt extremely uneasy. There was no doubt in his mind that this animal _was_ Circe. Kylrians could shape shift.

Galbatorix's booming regal voice broke him from his thoughts as the king addressed Eragon. "I told you, Shadeslayer, that my mages would find a way around your insignificant oath to the Varden, and they finally have." Galbatorix took a piece of paper out of his robes and held it like a weapon in his hands.

Eragon stepped forward and glared at Galbatorix defiantly. "I will not break my oath."

Galbatorix laughed. "You will obey me willingly, or suffer my wrath."

"I would die before I joined you," Eragon vowed. He had to make this convincing. If he just agreed and didn't fight back, Galbatorix would know that he was up to something.

Galbatorix gave him an evil, maniacal, sadistic grin and Eragon felt Galbatorix prying his way into his mind. While he was careful to guard the part of his mind that held their plan for escape, Eragon allowed Galbatorix to access the part that controlled his actions, and Galbatorix made the blue rider recite an oath of loyalty to the Empire in Kylrese.

Eragon fell to the ground as Galbatorix withdrew from his mind. Roran and Murtagh looked down at him briefly, just to make sure that he was all right.

Galbatorix addressed them next. "A while ago, I spoke of an imminent attack of the elves at Isenstar Lake and Gi'lead," he said. "The time has come. Tomorrow at dawn, the three of you will journey to the banks of Isenstar Lake and prepare for battle. Eleven hundred of my best men will be ready for you to lead." Galbatorix paused and made eye contact with Murtagh, sending chills down his spine.

"There will be no failure this time," he said icily as he sat back down and waved his hand, dismissing them.

Roran and Murtagh dragged Eragon to his feet and left the throne room. At the stairs, Roran left them to go get Katrina and bring her to Eragon's room so they could discuss their plans for the morning. Neither Eragon nor Murtagh spoke until they reached Eragon's room, protected from listeners by magic.

"Are you all right?" Murtagh asked his younger brother after he sat down in his usual chair. Throughout the month, they had had many other similar meetings in Eragon's room to discuss their plans and recent events. They had each come to claim their own chair.

Eragon nodded with a sigh. "I have a head ache, but that's all," he answered.

Murtagh nodded too. "He's done that to me plenty of times," he explained to Eragon with a shrug. "You get used to it eventually."

Eragon grinned, thinking of the next day when they would hopefully be free from Galbatorix. "If all goes well, I won't be around long enough," he said.

The door opened and Roran walked in with Katrina. They both took their usual chairs in the room. The only one not present was Circe.

"What's this emergency meeting all about then?" Katrina asked. "Roran wouldn't tell me in the hallways. He said that in this castle, even the walls have ears."

Eragon nodded to Roran. "He was wise to wait," he said. "Galbatorix has finally ordered us to Gi'lead. We're leaving at dawn."

Katrina's face lit up with joy. "Finally," she whispered, looking to Roran. "Maybe we can finally have a proper wedding!"

Roran nodded, leaning in to give her a kiss on the cheek. "All in due time, my love."

Eragon shifted uneasily in his chair as glanced over at Murtagh. He looked equally uncomfortable. "Roran?" he asked. "I believe we have more important things to discuss."

"Sorry," Roran muttered in apology, straightening in his chair.

Eragon turned his attention to Circe's empty chair and then to Murtagh. "Where is she?" he asked.

"You didn't see her?" Murtagh asked. "She was in Galbatorix's throne room a few moments ago."

"What are you talking about?" Eragon asked. "No she wasn't."

Murtagh laughed quietly. "Did the elves not teach you see the unusual? Or does Kylrian magic escape your eyes?"

"Stop talking in riddles," Eragon said dangerously.

"Again, you forget your place, little brother. You have no authority to order me around," Murtagh said. "Did you not see Galbatorix's new pet?"

"Yes, but what does that have anything to do-,"

"Everything, Eragon," Murtagh replied, cutting him off. "You do remember what Circe told you the first night you met her? She told you that Kylrians were the only beings to master shape shifting. Now, she is not here while Galbatorix carries around a caged cat. You are not stupid; put this puzzle together."

"But how? Why?" Eragon wanted to know.

Murtagh sighed impatiently. "My guess? Galbatorix scared her into it and then caught her and locked her up. The cage is magic proof. She can't change back while she's still in it."

Roran spoke next. "We can't leave her there," he said to Eragon. "We need the witch for our escape plan."

"I know," Eragon said, clearly trying to think of something.

"I'll go get her," Murtagh volunteered.

"Of course he will," Roran whispered to Eragon. Murtagh shot him a dangerous look.

"She'll be in Galbatorix's private chambers," Murtagh continued. "I'll go tonight and meet you guys in the dragon stables at dawn." He stood up to leave.

"Good luck," Eragon wished him.

"You're going to need it," Roran added.


	11. Chapter 11: Old Friends at Isenstar Lake

**Chapter 11: Old Friends at Isenstar Lake**

Murtagh moved through the dark castle as quiet as a deadly predator stalking its prey. He wore entirely black clothes in hopes of not being seen by the random guard walking the halls. If a guard did see him and stop him, he had Zar'roc fastened to his belt.

Murtagh had to open the door to Galbatorix's chambers with magic. The lock opened with a small click and Murtagh slid into the room. It was dark inside, unlike the hallways that were lit by torches. However, he could see that he stood in a sort of living room.

There was a faint meowing coming from under the window. Silently, he made his way over to the magical cage that held the cat Circe. He used the same spell that he used to open the door to open the cage. The black cat scampered out of the cage and nuzzled her head against his chest.

Murtagh scratched her behind her ears and picked her up as he head a muffled noise from the next room.

_Galbatorix is awake, _Circe warned, touching his mind. _Run!_

Murtagh nodded as he dashed out of the room and down the hall. He was vaguely aware of shouting noises coming from behind him as Galbatorix realized that his pet was missing. The sun was beginning to rise and soft rays of light illuminated the stone passageways.

Circe turned into a mouse in his arms. _Put me in your pocket. You'll reach Eragon and Roran faster that way._

Murtagh obeyed, carefully putting the little creature into one of the pockets on his belt as he continued fleeing from Galbatorix. The dragon stables weren't far off now.

_Be ready to take off, _he told Thorn. _Tell Saphira and Garrow the same to tell Eragon and Roran. Galbatorix knows someone's stolen Circe._

_Already done_, Thorn replied. _They're all here waiting for you._

_Good_, Murtagh said as he rounded the final corner before the dragon stables. The door swung open to reveal Eragon and Katrina waiting on Saphira, ready to go, and Roran perched atop Garrow who was barely big enough for him. Murtagh jumped onto Thorn and nodded, his eyes falling on Shruikan who was still asleep.

The three dragons took off from the roofless dragon stables and went out to meet the army that had assembled to meet the elves at Gi'lead and Isenstar Lake.

* * *

The army was assembled on the plains outside of the city. By the time they got there, the sun was fully risen and its golden light reflected off every single soldier's armor with a nearly blinding effect. Saphira, Thorn and Garrow landed in front of the troops and a captain came forward to meet Eragon, whose dwarven necklace had begin to use his energy to stop someone from scrying him again.

The man bowed before the Rider. "Greetings Great Shadeslayer," he said, showing his wonder and awe for Eragon. "I have ten thousand of my best troops assembled and ready to march against the elves at Isenstar Lake. We expect to be able to reach Gil'ead in two and a half days."

Eragon nodded. "Very good, captain," he said and the man returned to his ranks. Eragon turned to Roran. "You said you managed to convince Carvahall to leave and go to Surda?" he asked.

Roran nodded slowly, as if he wasn't sure why Eragon was asking this of him.

"Good," Eragon said. "We need a motivational speaker," he stated as he looked out over the troops. They couldn't have looked less excited about fighting elves if they had tried. They must have heard how skilled elves were in magic and combat.

"What?" Roran shouted. "Don't we want them to be demoralized?" he asked, lowering his voice slightly. "Won't they be easier to kill?"

"No, Eragon's right," Murtagh said in agreement with his brother. "If I know Galbatorix, he's sitting in his throne room scrying us right now…"

"It'll add credibility to Circe's fake visions if we act like we're into this battle. These weak humans will be easy for the elves to beat whether they want to fight or not," Eragon argued.

Roran sighed. "All right, all right," he said, deciding to succumb to his two cousins because he'd rather not argue. "But I have to tell you… I was only so passionate about leaving Carvahall because those filthy Ra'zac had taken Katrina."

He shot one final glare at Eragon and Murtagh for making him give a motivational speech to a group of Imperial soldiers and cleared his throat in hopes of getting the men's attention. Most of them looked up, expressions of dread on their faces. The superiors reprimanded those who didn't. Reluctantly, Roran began to speak:

"Soldiers of Alagaësia, today, we march to fight an age old foe and enemy of the Empire and of the Great Rider King Galbatorix, the elves of Du Weldenvarden. Ever since the Fall, the elves have been causing the Empire trouble, whether it was by helping the Varden and Surda steal dragon eggs from His Highness himself or in some other, less obvious way. Yes, people tell stories about the greatness of the elves, but today they shall be no march for you for you are soldiers of the Empire, the most powerful force in all the land!"

Roran looked to Eragon and Murtagh and then back to the crowd of soldiers assembled before them. To his surprise, the mood of the soldiers seemed to have brightened.

Eragon smiled at him. "Well done."

"Aye," Murtagh agreed. "I think you have a knack for that."

Roran smiled and dismounted from Garrow. Unfortunately, the dragon wasn't big enough for two people and he wanted to spend time with his beloved Katrina. Using the little bit of language that he'd learned from Saphira since he was born, Garrow had told Roran not to worry. He would enjoy flying much better if he didn't have to worry about dropping him. Roran laughed and quickly flagged down the captain again.

"You!" he called as the bulk of the soldiers mounted their steeds. "D'you have two mounts? One for me and one for my lady?"

"Aye, sir!" the captain said and scurried off to find them.

Eragon stroked Saphira's neck lovingly after he helped Katrina dismount to go to Roran. _I've missed flying with you_, he told his dragon friend.

_I know, little one_, Saphira agreed. _It has been too long._

The three dragons took off looking forward to a fun day of flying. They wouldn't have to worry about making good time on this journey and because they would have to wait for the soldiers and Roran to catch up, they would have plenty of time to goof off.

As they started to move out, Circe the rat climbed out of the pocket Murtagh had put her in. Once again, she changed her shape, this time to a magnificent black hawk that joined the flying group.

Eragon was thoroughly enjoying himself. The last time he had flown with Saphira was more than a month ago when he and Roran had attempted to rescue Katrina from Helgrind and that hadn't ended well. It was good to not worry about fighting the Ra'zac or Galbatorix again any time soon.

_How has life been up in that terrible castle?_ Saphira asked him.

_Not terrible_, Eragon replied. _I was able to keep myself occupied with our little conspiracy, but not able to completely keep my mind off of Arya._

Saphira nodded. _I know_, she said. _I know everything that you've done. Remember those lessons with Oromis? He told me to know what you and he did and he told you to know what me and Glaedr did._

Eragon nodded, _Yes, I remember. Do you miss him? Glaedr I mean._

Saphira sighed. _Not the way you miss Arya. I miss having him as a friend._

Eragon smiled. _I know,_ he said. _I know what you've been doing. You're not interested in Glaedr anymore. Now you're interested in Thorn._

_What?_ Saphira demanded, pretending to be outraged, but Eragon caught her stealing a quick look at Thorn. _I have no idea what you're talking about! _

Eragon laughed. _Sure you don't._

_I'm telling the truth!_ she said indignantly.

_Then why don't you talk in the ancient language?_

Saphira blew smoke from her nostrils angrily. _I don't have to prove anything to you._

_Come on, _Eragon pleaded. _Don't get mad! I'm just playing with you._

Saphira remained silent and executed a dangerous flip that she had clearly intended to use to throw Eragon off her back.

_What was that for?_ Eragon demanded.

_What was what for?_ Saphira asked playfully.

* * *

The next two nights they pitched tents and make camp along the banks of the Ramr River. The second night, Eragon, Roran, Katrina and Murtagh all sat around one of the many campfires eating their rations and Saphira, Thorn and Garrow were a little while off munching on some animal they'd caught.

"We will reach Gi'lead by midday tomorrow," Circe announced as she came over wearing some of Murtagh's clothes.

Eragon nodded. "I hope everyone's ready. We can't afford any mistakes. Everyone has to make it out of this battle alive."

"Except the soldiers," Roran added. "It's imperative that they all die."

"What?" Circe asked in confusion. "_All_ of them have to die?"

Eragon, Roran and Murtagh all shot her a strange look. "That's how war works," Murtagh said, confused as to why she was surprised. "You have to kill all of your enemy to win."

"But these men aren't my enemy!" Circe informed them. "I know them. Some of them have wives… and children! You can't just kill them like that."

"Yes, we can," Eragon started.

"And we will," Roran continued.

"That's the only way we'll succeed in our plan," Murtagh finished.

Circe opened her mouth to protest again, but Eragon silenced her with another question. "Are you prepared to do your part?" he asked.

Circe nodded. "I will be on the battlefield with you and I'll chose what Galbatorix is allowed to see," she explained. "Eragon, do you still have that dwarven necklace?" Eragon nodded and pulled it out from under his tunic. "Good," Circe said. "That means I won't have to worry about faking your death because Galbatorix won't be able to see you anyway."

"And if you did send him an image of me he'd know something was up," Eragon finished for her. "This is a well conceived plan, but there is great risk. Let's just hope it works."

* * *

They passed Gil'ead at midday the next day and continued on a little farther to the banks of Isenstar Lake. They pitched their tents and made camp again. They would spend the rest of the day preparing for battle. At the moment, the conspiracy sat in Eragon's tent in their usual seats when a captain walked in.

"What is it, captain?" Eragon asked, eager to get this man away so they could fine-tune their plan.

"The elves' leaders want to meet with our leader," the captain said. "I have three delegates waiting outside."

Eragon looked to Murtagh and Roran, his partners in crime. Both of them nodded meaning that he should accept and let them in. Eragon nodded back and turned his attention back to the captain. "Send them in," he ordered.

The captain bowed again and left. Only a few moments later, three elves came into the tent. Eragon recognized all three of them: Nari, Lifaen and Vanir. All three of them were shocked to see him in the tent of the leader of the Imperial army.

Eragon gulped. How was he going to explain himself now? "This isn't what it looks like," he said quickly, before any of the elves could say anything.

Vanir glared at him. He'd always been an enemy of Eragon. "So you _aren't_ leading the Empire's attack on the elves?" he sneered.

Eragon sighed. "Sorry, it _is_ what it looks like then. But there are things you don't know-,"

"How convenient!" Vanir hissed. "I should have expect this human to betray us like this," he said to Nari and Lifaen. The other two elves looked to Eragon seeking an answer. They, unlike their belligerent companion, seemed to be willing to let Eragon explain himself.

"Sit down," Eragon said, motioning to the three empty chairs. Once they were seated, Eragon continued, careful to use the ancient language so they would know that he was not lying, "My cousin and I were captured by Galbatorix on a rescue mission. He's forced us into his service by the ancient language. But I can assure you, my loyalties have always been and always will be to the Varden. My companions and I plan to betray him in the battle tomorrow. You will not have to worry about dragon attacks."

Vanir still looked unconvinced, but Nari and Lifaen who had been friends with Eragon almost looked glad to see him again. "I look forward to seeing that tomorrow," Nari said.

"Just imagine the looks on the soldiers' faces," said Lifaen.


	12. Chapter 12: Attack

Don't you worry; Eragon's love life is about to take a few exciting twists and turns very soon. 

Remember that this battle is only a preview of the one coming up towards the end. :)

**Chapter Twelve: Attack**

The sun rose all the same the next morning and they were on the brink of a battle. It was not the battle that the Imperial soldiers thought it was, because they had already lost. For Eragon, Roran, Murtagh, Katrina and Circe it was a battle against Galbatorix, a battle for freedom, and the tension in camp as they made and ate their breakfast could have been cut with a blade.

Last night, the elves' ambassadors, Vanir, Nari and Lifaen, had left after Eragon elaborated on their plan with promises in the ancient language to tell their brethren not to attack the Riders and the witch who was not human. To Eragon's displeasure, Vanir still didn't trust him. The young Rider didn't know what it was going to take to win the elf's loyalty. He could only hope that the belligerent elf would not turn against them in the future.

They sat around the campfire in silence as the soldiers scurried about preparing for battle. There was much to be done. Everything had to be in top order. Armor had to be shined and ready for wear; weapons had to be sharpened and in good working order. But these were the least of Eragon's and his companions' concerns. All eyes were on Circe that morning. Everyone, including Circe herself, was hoping that her magical abilities were enough to fool Galbatorix, the evil Rider King that he was.

Saphira, Thorn and Garrow weren't in much better shape. Even little Garrow knew of the coming perils. Saphira had taught him a lot since he was born a little over a month ago, but nothing could have prepared him for what was about to happen. Saphira and Thorn did their best to remind him of helpful battle strategies, but the youngling was not inclined to listen. He was looking forward to tearing Imperial soldiers apart limb by limb and too distracted to mind his elders.

After breakfast, Eragon went into his tent to make his final preparations for the coming battle. He donned a chain mail shirt and put the plate armor that was supplied to him by the Empire over top. Then, he took his elven bow and quiver and the new sword that Galbatorix had had made for him. He gazed at the weapon with disdain. He would have thrown in into Isenstar Lake if it hadn't been for its excellent quality and the fact that it was his only sword. What he wouldn't give to have Zar'roc in his hands again! Brom had given him that sword, but Murtagh had taken it back from him. It was his inheritance… their father Morzan's sword…

After he was ready for combat, Eragon went out to see Saphira and help her put on her dwarven dragon armor. It was lucky that they'd taken it with them when they went to rescue Katrina. If they hadn't, they wouldn't have it now and it had saved Saphira's life many times.

_Are you ready, Saphira?_ Eragon asked. _Today is the day we free ourselves from Galbatorix's shackles._

_Well put, little one,_ she replied. _This will be a day long remembered. It will go down in history as the day the Great Galbatorix was fooled by his servant's magic._

Eragon laughed. _I just hope we haven't underestimated him and overestimated Circe. Galbatorix did steal every last drop of Suníl's power._

_Well, _I _have faith in her,_ Saphira announced.

_Wouldn't I have called the whole thing off if I didn't?_

Once Saphira was ready, Eragon mounted her and they flew off to what would be the front lines of the fighting, where they were supposed to meet Roran, Murtagh and Circe. He knew for a fact that Roran had forbade Katrina to fly with him during the fighting. He also knew that she wasn't very happy about that.

They were all already assembled when Eragon and Saphira arrived. Roran was mounted on Garrow and the little dragon looked especially silly with the fully armored Roran on top of him. Thorn held both Murtagh and Circe, both wearing only chain mail. Eragon smiled at the sight of the two of them. It was obvious that Murtagh cared for Circe, though he'd never admit to it, and Eragon noticed how close the two sat on Thorn's back. He also noticed how Thorn and Saphira exchanged looks upon their arrival.

Eragon's eyes finally fell on Roran. "Do you have anything to say?" he asked.

"Why're you asking me?" Roran asked.

"You talent for motivational speaking?" Eragon reminded him.

Roran sighed. "I don't think we need it…" Eragon glared at him. "Aye… aye, all right," he said, giving in to Eragon's request. "Uh… Today we stand on the brink of war. But this war is no ordinary war. It cannot be won by sheer strength, but the victor shall be the more cunning. It does not involve fighting with weapons and killing your enemy, it involves trickery through magic. Today, we shall stand and fight against Galbatorix, an age-old foe of freedom, and we may fall at his evil hands. But if we do, however unlikely, we shall stand and fall honorably, like men, because we are everything Galbatorix is not."

A small moment of silence followed and then Murtagh smiled at his cousin and would have given him a pat on the back if they were standing next to each other. "Well done," he said.

Eragon nodded. "Aye," he said. "Well done."

Then their attention shifted to the mass of soldiers assembling behind them and then to the mass of elves on the horizon. Eragon flagged down the captain. "It is time," he said gravely.

The captain nodded. The three dragons rose into the air in a wondrous sight and charged at the elves on the horizon. Inspired by their commanders, the soldiers followed the Riders, unknowingly running to their own deaths.

Eragon watched as Roran and Murtagh simply flew around above the battle as they waited for the go ahead from Circe to attack the Imperials. However, Eragon was free from such restrictions, as he knew that Galbatorix could not scry him anyway and he did not need to wait for Circe's command. He and Saphira flew in low over the Imperial ranks, vaguely aware of elven arrows whizzing by them faster than a dragon could fly. Saphira grabbed several soldiers with her talons and threw them as far as she could.

_That felt good_, she said, watching them cry with fear as they were flung through the air.

_Good, _Eragon answered. _You can do it as many times as you'd like._

Saphira made a purring sound as she picked up several more men in her huge claws and flung them back at the ground as quickly as she possibly could.

Eragon noticed that it wasn't long before Roran jumped into the fray. Circe must have been working quickly if she'd already faked his death to Galbatorix. That meant that all she had left to do was lie about Murtagh's and her own death and then her role would be fulfilled. After Murtagh joined with the elves, Eragon and Roran, the battle wouldn't last much longer.

And he was right. After making five or so more rounds of throwing soldiers around like toys, Saphira ascended into the sky and allowed Eragon to practice his skills with a bow and arrow. That only lasted a half an hour at most and then a small group of Galbatorix's soldiers was cowering together under a white flag of surrender. They were surrounded by elves with their leaders Vanir, Nari and Lifaen at the front.

Saphira was the first dragon to land, soon followed by Garrow. The elves made a space for them near the Empire's soldiers and Eragon slid down Saphira's back and approached Nari, Lifaen and Vanir. The three seemed to be waiting for his orders. Eragon tore off his helmet and looked from the elves to the soldiers.

"They need to be killed," the blue Rider told them simply.

Once again, Vanir disagreed with him. "It is unethical to kill men who have surrendered," he growled.

"Vanir…" Nari began, obviously tired with his companion's insubordination and stubbornness.

Eragon silenced him. He would handle this on his own. "It is vital to our plan," he explained. "They have seen what has transpired here. I cannot allow them to return to Galbatorix. They must be killed." Thorn landed nearby and Murtagh and Circe dismounted and started to come toward them.

Lifaen nodded and strung his bow, aiming at one man whose helmet had fallen off. The shot was of expert quality and _should_ have cleanly killed its target, but an invisible force field around the man stopped it. The arrow's shaft broke from the head and feel harmlessly to the ground. The targeted soldier let out a deep sigh of relief.

A Lifaen stepped forward and examined the arrowhead in disbelief. "I've never seen the likes of this before," he said in astonishment. "This is magic I've never seen before in any elf or human!"

Eragon glared at Circe, approaching the group with Murtagh. He knew that she had cast this spell to save her precious soldiers. But then how had some of them been killed? She must have only protected special ones. Still, she'd interfered with their plan. "What have you done?" Eragon said, his voice low and dangerous.

"I told you that you couldn't just kill them like that," she answered, not at all disheveled by Eragon's accusations. She pulled her black hair behind her eyes and returned his gaze.

"It was a vital aspect of our plan!" Eragon reminded her.

"Don't worry," she replied coolly. "These ones won't interfere with our plan. Actually, they will be a powerful ally."

"What do you mean?" Eragon asked. "How are you going to keep them from Galbatorix?"

Circe smiled. "These are the men that are not truly loyal to Galbatorix. They hate him just like we do and only put themselves in his service to support their families and themselves. Keeping them from Galbatorix will be no problem. I figure they can take an oath in your ancient language and join the Varden's military forces. You'll need all the help you can get to vanquish the Rider King."

Eragon sighed. It too was a well thought out plan. He had to give her credit. "Did you know about this?" he asked Murtagh.

Murtagh nodded. "But not until she was casting it and we were already in the air," he clarified. "Who was I to stop the most powerful mage in Alagaësia?" He smiled down at Circe and then returned his attention to Eragon.

Eragon nodded and waved his hand to the elves. "Take them back to your camp and have them take oaths to the Varden in the ancient language. Then ship them off to Aberon."

"Of course, Shadeslayer," said Nari, turning with Vanir to round up the soldiers and take them back to camp.

As the ranks of the elven warriors dissolved and the Imperial troops were led off, Murtagh and Circe left the sight as well. Roran turned to leave, but one of the helmeted soldiers stopped him. "What is it?" Roran asked curiously. What reason did this soldier have for stopping him?

The 'soldier' pulled of his, or her, helmet. Roran gasped at his fiancée Katrina standing in front of him. "You thought I would be killed, Hmph!" she said with false anger and strode off toward their tent. Roran, shocked, had to run to catch up with her.

Eragon smiled at the two, and for a minute he was envious of their relationship. Then, he too turned to leave, only to be stopped by Lifaen. "What?" he asked, eager to get back to his tent and shed all of his heavy armor.

"It's Arya," he said, his voice serious. "She's here, right now, at Isenstar Lake. She was part of the battle. I think she came in hopes of seeing you."

Eragon tried to act like this didn't mean anything to him, but inside his heart actually skipped a beat. He was dying to see Arya again. He shrugged and said, "She doesn't want me, Lifaen. She's made it clear to me that she only wants to be friends."

Lifaen shook his head. "She's been acting strange, even for her," he continued. "Do us all a favor and go see her. If you think it was hard to live with her before, it's even more difficult now."

Eragon let out a small chuckle. "That only makes me want to go see her more," he said sarcastically. "Don't worry," he assured the elf. "I'll go find her."

So then Eragon strode off towards his tent with a new confusion in his heart. He shook his head. Why did he have to get involved with one of the most complicated females in all of Alagaësia? The only one more confusing than Arya was Circe and she was Murtagh's problem. He shrugged. Perhaps it ran in the family. But Lifaen's news intrigued him. Had he been wrong to give up all hope on Arya? Or was Lifaen being misleading?

Once he returned to his tent, the blue Rider stripped off his clothes and washed all the sweat off his body. Then he put on clean clothes, strapped the blue sword to his belt and walked off to find Arya.

Once he arrived in the elves' camp, finding Arya wasn't that difficult; she was in one of the larger tents. He stood outside the tent for a few seconds feeling rather foolish, then dug up the courage to call, "Arya Svit-kona? Are you there?"

A few moments later, Arya appeared at the entrance to the tent. "Eragon?" she asked in disbelief. "Eragon Shadeslayer?"

"Aye," Eragon replied with a grin. "It's me, Arya."

"Oh, Eragon!" she exclaimed. "It's so nice to see you again! But may I ask what are you doing here? Why are with Galbatorix's army?"

"It's a long story," he answered with a sigh.

"I'd like to hear it."

"For you, I think I can bare to relive it," he said with a smile. She looked just like she did when he'd last seen here and just as beautiful as she had the first time he dreamt of her. If she took offense or was startled by his comment, she didn't show it. That was good. She listened intently to the rest of his story as he retold being ambushed at Helgrind, meeting Murtagh and Circe and plotting to free themselves of Galbatorix's control.

"I'm just glad you're okay," she said with relief. "Aberon wasn't the same without you."

Eragon only just now realized how close she was standing to him. Maybe Lifaen was right. Maybe she did have feelings for him like he did for her. But she'd led him on a little before. If he tried anything, would she shoot him down again? Well… he'd never know if he didn't try…

The young Rider took a deep breath and leaned in to kiss her. To his surprise, she didn't pull away immediately and scold him again. In fact, she seemed to go along with it and it was the most wonderful experience Eragon may ever have had. For a few moments, everything was right in the world and he completely forgot about Galbatorix and the Empire.

But then Arya separated from him. It was a sudden, abrupt movement and she turned her gaze to the ground quickly rather than meet his eye. "No, I shouldn't have done that," she said quickly.

Eragon let out a deep, frustrated sigh. She'd done it again! "Why do you do this to me, Arya Svit-kona?" he asked with agitation. "Everytime I'm with you… you send me these messages, and then why I try to act on them, you kick me away."

Arya remained silent, still unable to meet his eye.

"Ever since the night I first dreamt of you, all those months ago, a day hasn't gone by when I haven't thought of you," he told her, hoping to get a response this time. However, he wasn't that lucky. "And now that I'm with you again, I'm in agony. _Why do you do this to me?_"

Still, she remained silent.

He glared at her. "If you are suffering as much as I am, please… tell me," he said angrily.

When Arya failed yet again to dignify his questions with a response, Eragon turned and left. That was it. He was done with Arya. He would not continue to allow himself to be hurt in this way. That was it. Tomorrow, he was leaving for Ellesméra to complete his training with Oromis and he hoped to never see her again.


	13. Chapter 13: Oromis' End

I absolutely LOVE how so many of my reviewers commented on my Star Wars moment at the end of the last chapter. Yes, I did do that on purpose but do not intend to borrow from the mastermind that is GL again… well at least not in this story.

**Chapter 13: Oromis' End**

Eragon didn't know that it was Arya's intention to go to Ellesméra too. If he had, he may have changed his plans and gone back to Aberon in Surda first, but when they arrived in Ellesméra, Islanzadí told them that they had excellent timing because Arya was coming too. Apparently, the elves were preparing for another celebration, the queen's birthday.

Their arrival in the elven city was marked by an assembly of all the elves in Ellesméra to see Eragon Shadeslayer, Saphira Bjartskular and their companions. They greeted Eragon, Roran, Katrina, Saphira and Garrow warmly, throwing flowers at them and singing. Eragon wished he could have counted all the elves that came to talk with him, but there were even more that went to Garrow and Saphira. Their response to Murtagh, Circe and Thorn was not as warm.

Somehow news of Murtagh's betrayal at the Burning Plains had reached Du Weldenvarden and all the elves knew that Murtagh, son of Morzan, was bound to Galbatorix by their ancient language. They also knew that, as his dragon, Thorn was too. Nobody was really sure about Circe. They all knew immediately that she was not human, not dwarven and not elven. They must have come to a conclusion that she was Kylrian, and they must have remembered the horrible wars between the two races before the wars with the dragons. Each and every elf, including Queen Islanzadí, watched the three of them with wary eyes.

Islanzadí had given Eragon back the rooms that he had used in his previous visit, the rooms that once belonged to Vrael, the first Dragon Rider, but Eragon didn't stay there for long. He took the time to clean up a bit just like he used to do when he had lessons with Oromis and then jumped on Saphira and headed off to where he used to meet the wizened old elf.

The cliff on the Crags of Tel'naeír looked the same as it always did every day when Eragon used to come to the cliffs for his daily lessons with Oromis. As Saphira landed on the edge, he could feel her excitement. Before the Battle of the Burning Plains, Glaedr was the only dragon in Alagaësia besides Saphira. He had put an end to Saphira's yearnings for a friend of the same race, though he would not mate with her.

Something similar had happened with Eragon and Oromis. He had spent a long time believing that he was the only good Dragon Rider left in Alagaësia after Brom died. Having Oromis as his master gave him hope for the future. He had learned much about the ways of the Riders and, especially after the Agaetí Blödhren, he felt confident in his abilities- that was before he faced Murtagh in the Battle of the Burning Plains.

But something worried Eragon. One of the things that Oromis had taught him was to see the life force of all living things around him. Now, as he stood outside Oromis' hut, he could barely see the life of his old master and he couldn't see Glaedr at all.

_Wait here_, he told Saphira. _I don't think everything's right. Something's wrong._

Saphira nodded. _I feel it too._ She sat down on the rocks and laid her head on the ground. Eragon could've sworn she was frowning with worry.

He approached the hut in a circumspect manner and poked his head inside. The old elf was lying in his bed. He seemed to be a lot thinner than Eragon remembered and his pallor worried the young Rider. "Oromis?" he called, stepping inside. "Oromis, it's me, Eragon."

Oromis looked up and smiled when he saw his pupil. "Come in, then, Eragon," he said, beckoning him closer with his hand. "I have waited for your return. Do tell me what has kept you."

Eragon smiled back, stepped inside and sat down on the ground beside his bed. Then, he told his master everything that had befallen him since he left Ellesméra to fight in the Battle of the Burning Plains. He paused slightly when he came to the part where he fought Murtagh. "He said that he was my brother," Eragon whispered, "that Morzan was my father too."

Oromis bowed his head slightly and remained silent.

"Ebrithil," Eragon asked. "Please answer me one question… did you know? Did Brom know?"

Oromis nodded slowly. "I can see there is no fooling you, Eragon-finiarel. I knew. Brom knew."

"Then why did no one tell me?" Eragon asked with a hint of frustration in his voice. "Why didn't Brom tell me when Saphira hatched for me? Why didn't you tell me when I came here for my training?"

"We felt that it was for the best," Oromis answered.

"Best that I did not know the truth?" Eragon demanded.

"Best to keep you from Galbatorix," Oromis corrected him sternly. "You've seen what he's done to Murtagh. If Galbatorix knew that Morzan had another son, he would have hunted you down and forced you into his service. We tried to protect you."

Eragon didn't respond. Oromis spoke the truth, but he was still upset that he and Brom knew who his father was and hadn't bothered to tell him. He sighed. "I am sorry, ebrithil," he said. "I should not have doubted your intentions."

"It is only natural, to want to know the truth," Oromis said. "But you need to be careful. You need to learn when to stay silent. Control your temper or you will meet the same fate as your father and brother."

Eragon nodded. "I haven't finished my story through, ebrithil. Murtagh is not still in Galbatorix's control. He is here, in Ellesméra with us."

"But he is still bound by that oath," Oromis pointed out. "As is your cousin Roran."

"But their hearts are in the right place," Eragon insisted. "They really hate Galbatorix, as does our new comrade, the Kylrian."

Oromis nodded. "But Galbatorix still has a hold on them. No matter how hard they try, they can never escape him while he still draws breath. Now, please, go on with your story."

Eragon nodded and continued on. He told his master of their ambush at Helgrind by Galbatorix and Murtagh, how Roran had been threatened into swearing loyalty to Galbatorix and had done so to save Katrina, how angry Galbatorix was that he'd already given his allegiance to Nasuada, Galbatorix's conflict with his Kylrian magicians and their plan to desert the army. Finally, he reached the Battle of Isenstar Lake, which wasn't really a battle.

Oromis smiled as Eragon finished. "I am impressed, Eragon," he said. "You have accomplished much since the last time we met. Indeed, you have accomplished the one thing that your father could never do."

There was a moment of silence and Eragon remembered one of his questions. "Ebrithil, where is Glaedr? Saphira misses him."

A terrible look of sadness overcame Oromis' features. "I have expected that you would ask me that." He sighed and looked at the door, as if expecting someone to come in. "Glaedr is dead."

Eragon nodded ever so slowly. He had expected this when he arrived and neither he nor Saphira could feel his presence.

"We are old, Eragon," Oromis explained. "We have become ill. Of course when Glaedr went, I only got worse."

Eragon looked at him in despair. "Ebrithil, you can't die. I need you. I've come back to complete my training."

Oromis smiled. "I have trained many Riders in my lifetime, Eragon, including your father Morzan and your former mentor Brom. You have the most potential that I have seen in a young human for quiet some time. There is little more you could learn from me."

Eragon lowered his gaze and sat in silence for a while. "Do you mean that, ebrithil?" he asked in awe. That might have been the greatest compliment that he'd ever received. Oromis nodded. "Then I am truly a Rider now."

Oromis smiled. "You still have an arduous task set out in front of you," he said weakly. "Galbatorix… your training will not be complete until you have defeated Galbatorix."

Eragon nodded. "I know," he whispered. "But with Roran, Murtagh and Circe by my side, he won't stand a chance."

Oromis shook his head. "I fear that in the end, they will not be able to help you. Galbatorix has power over them all. In the end, you will have to face him alone. It is your destiny, I have foreseen it… but I cannot see whether it will end for good or for ill."

Eragon visited Oromis every day leading up to Islanzadí's birthday celebration. His master's words deeply troubled him. He would have to face Galbatorix alone; Oromis had foreseen it.

Saphira wasn't herself after hearing of Glaedr's death. He had been her first dragon friend. She took to moping about and flying away for long periods of time and sometimes didn't come back by nightfall. Not even Thorn or Eragon could comfort her.

Eragon went through similar grief when Oromis died the day before Islanzadí's birthday. He had gone to visit the old elf Rider like usual, only to find him dead in his bed. Eragon came to the conclusion that he had died in his sleep. He stayed on the crags of Tel'naeír until midday, mourning and remembering the good times he'd shared with Oromis and learning more about the secret lives of the ants. Then, he and Saphira went to inform Islanzadí of Oromis' death.

They had a grand funeral celebration that night, the eve of Islanzadí's birthday. There wasn't a smiling face in Ellesméra that day. Even those who never knew Oromis, like Roran, Murtagh, Circe and Katrina, were saddened by news of the elf's death. Even though they never knew him, they all understood how much he had meant to Eragon and tried their best to comfort him. After several elves spoke comforting words about Oromis' death, Islanzadí beckoned Eragon to come forward and say a few words:

"I am willing to bet that everyone here knows me by name," he began. "But if I'm wrong and there's someone here that doesn't, I am Eragon Shadeslayer, one of the new Dragon Riders and a student of Oromis-elda who was the last remaining Rider of the old Order."

"I first arrived in Ellesméra quite some time ago when I was nearly clueless to the arduous task that has been set before me. With Oromis' help, I slowly began to understand the significance and meaning of being a Rider. Oromis helped me to understand that being a Rider did not mean that I was perfect, better than anyone or more deserving. He helped me to understand the history of the Riders and told me many of their old secrets. He gave me information that has helped me to survive many, many times."

"I am certain that if Oromis were here now, he would not want us to be sad. He would know that he has done all he can to help us win our victory against Galbatorix and the Empire. He would know that it was his time to go. He would wish us well and tell us to get on with our lives. He would tell us to go out and win one for him and Glaedr, his faithful dragon companion who also helped me understand why I'm here."

"Tonight we mourn and remember one of the greatest of the Dragon Riders and perhaps the wisest being that I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Tomorrow, we celebrate our Queen Islanzadí and have faith that she will lead us through this terrible loss we have suffered."


	14. Chapter 14: Islanzadi's Birthday

This chapter is going to be very heavy on the EragonxArya pairing. You all knew I couldn't keep them apart for any longer.

Theme song for this chapter (Islanzadí's Birthday Celebration), I've chosen the Return of the Jedi Victory Celebration from the reissue of Star Wars Episode VI: Return of the Jedi. I know I said I wouldn't be borrowing from GL again this story, but I couldn't resist and technically, it's John Williams.

No reviews at all last chapter? I am very disappointed.

**Chapter Fourteen: Islanzadí's Birthday**

Sounds of music and dancing filled the air under the bright full moon that shone above Du Weldenvarden and Ellesméra. The whole forest was alive with elven magic and a huge bonfire was the centerpiece for Queen Islanzadí's birthday celebration. The elves singing and dancing around the blaze were innumerable. In great contrast with the previous night of Oromis' final ceremonies, there wasn't anyone with a frown on their lips.

The greatest of the elves' magicians had grown flowers on the trees especially for Islanzadí, and Arya enjoyed looking at them as they strolled around the fire and enjoyed the overall effect of the party. Though she couldn't bring herself to dance, she was glad that she had a reason to celebrate. Recently, her life had been full of misery and woe with the war with the Empire and Galbatorix. The elven magic and music had driven most of the worry from her mind, but there was one thing that she couldn't forget, no matter how long she listened to the elves' music.

And that was Eragon.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get his face out of her head. His sad and confused expression when she pulled out of his kiss was tearing her apart. Why did she continue to lead him on and then throw him down again? Why was she not able to explain to him how she felt when he had asked her numerous times? She sighed and collapsed in a chair near the fire and snapped her eyes shut, trying to lose herself in the joy of the elven party.

It wasn't long before she was aware of two people coming to sit down a little bit away from her. Curious, Arya opened her eyes. It was Eragon's cousin Roran and his fiancée Katrina. Arya watched enviously as the two sat very close together and whispered things in each other's ears. She sighed. They were the perfect couple and, frankly, Arya was jealous. She wished she and Eragon could be that way, but deep down in her heart she knew that it was near impossible after what she'd done to him.

It wasn't long before Roran and Katrina's lips met in a passionate kiss. Arya scowled. Did they have to do this to her? She closed her eyes again, but couldn't get it out of her head. Except, in her mind, it was her and Eragon kissing, not Roran and Katrina.

"Hey! Arya!" she heard Roran calling her. No doubt the new Rider had felt her eyes on him. She frowned and opened her eyes to see him waving at her frantically. The sight was enough to make her laugh.

She smiled back, despite the fact that that was the last thing she wanted to do. Katrina motioned her over and Arya groaned inwardly. Nevertheless, the elven princess got up and went over to sit with the engaged couple; she took the seat to Katrina's right.

"How are you, Arya?" Roran asked with a wide grin on his face. "Are you enjoying all this wondrous music and magical celebration? My, never before in my life have I experienced something so wonderful!"

Arya nodded slowly. "It gets a bit redundant though, when you live with them every few months. They begin to lose their special qualities."

"Why! You must be kidding!" Katrina gasped.

Arya shook her head, the surprised expression on Katrina's face making her smile. "You two seem quiet happy, though. I don't want to spoil the moment."

Roran laughed. "Don't worry, Arya," he said. "You're not ruining anything. In fact, we've been looking all over for you."

"Looking for me?" she asked, slightly confused.

"Aye," Roran answered. "We want to know what you've done to our poor Eragon."

Arya's temporary smile subsided to be replaced by a frown of fake confusion. "I don't know what in Alagaësia you're talking about," she stated.

"Aye, I think you do, Arya," Roran insisted. "Ever since he met you at Isenstar Lake, he's been moping around with this look of perpetual sadness on his face. It's not good for group moral. I demand you tell me what you've done to him." Despite his forceful words, Roran didn't seem the least bit angry. In fact, he still wore the goofy grin he'd had when Arya had first joined them.

Arya sighed. "Perhaps I had something to do with it."

"Something to do with it?" Roran asked. "I believe you had _everything _to do with it."

"He seems to have this… thing… for me."

"I never thought you were blind, Arya Svit-kona. My poor cousin's head over heels in love with you and you won't even give him a chance."

Arya frowned. "He is nearly a century younger than me!" she argued.

"Love has no age."

"I do not think it would be wise-,"

"Was it wise to try to trick Galbatorix, the most powerful being in Alagaësia? Is it wise to oppose him at all? I do not think so, but we do anyway. There are certain things worth the risk."

"Are you arguing that love is one of them?"

"Aye!" Roran shouted. "I most certainly am! Would you like to hear what I did for love? Well I'm going to tell you anyway. I dared to threaten the Ra'zac in their palace of Helgrind for my love. I was willing to pledge myself to the most vile man in Alagaësia for my love."

Arya remained silent and Katrina spoke, "It is quite obvious that you return Eragon's feelings. Can you explain why you continue to resist them?"

It was a moment or two before Arya answered, "I am afraid. I am afraid of being hurt. We all know that the risks you take in life do not always turn out the way you would have liked. Sometimes, they bring about great suffering. I do not wish to suffer any more than I already have."

"But isn't love worth the risk?" Roran asked again. "How far are you willing to go for the ones you love? If you're not willing to risk getting hurt, well… then your life shall be quite lonely indeed."

Arya contemplated his words for several moments. "Perhaps you are right," she said in conclusion, rising from her chair. "Thank you," she said as she turned and left. She would go and find Eragon. She would apologize for her rude and stupid behavior. She only hoped he would forgive her.

Meanwhile, Eragon had let the elven music and magic take him away to a place in his mind without worry or sorrow. Not that he had forgotten about Oromis, his recent dilemmas and Arya, he was simply living in his happy place. At the moment, he was dancing with a beautiful elven maiden with long, golden yellow hair.

She smiled all the time and laughed at all his bad jokes. She was a good dancer, but Eragon couldn't help but compare her to Arya. He couldn't help but think that Arya was so much prettier than this girl was. He enjoyed Arya's company a lot more, but this girl didn't lead him on and then push him away, repeatedly. In fact, all she'd done this entire party was flirt with him and bat her long eyelashes.

"I like you a lot, Shadeslayer," she was saying at the moment. "And you look so much like an elf."

He hadn't noticed how close her face was to his until just now. If he had wanted to, he could have counted every single one of her eyelashes. He sniffed and got a huge whiff of her lovely perfume. Why was he even thinking of Arya? He'd given up on her.

Suddenly, he didn't quite know how it happened, the elf was kissing him. Eragon didn't resist; she was an excellent kisser, not that he'd had much experience, but all the while, he couldn't help but compare her to Arya. He found Arya so much more… alluring. He pulled away from her and sighed. She was very pretty and he hated to turn her down, but it had to be done. Hopefully, she wouldn't be too upset.

"Look," he began. "I don't know how to say this but…" He found himself unable to finish his sentence. He was too amazed and shocked by what was happening to the maiden. Her pure golden hair was beginning to darken, as was her skin, and her elven features diminished until they became just like those of a human. In only a few moments, her hair was raven black, her skin was tanned and the Dragon Rider recognized her.

It was Circe the shapeshifter.

He gasped. "What just happened? Circe?" He was unable to say anything else as Circe put her fingers to his lips to silence him.

"Je t'aime, Eragon, mais comme un frère," she whispered in Kylrese. I love you, Eragon, but like a brother. She pulled her hand away. "Now what did you feel just then? When I kissed you?"

Eragon ran his hand through his hair as he tried to come up with a response to her strange question. "Nothing," he finally answered. "I couldn't stop thinking about Arya."

"And there is a reason for that," she answered with a smile.

"What would that be?" Eragon asked curiously. "I've given up on Arya. It's time for me to move on."

Circe shook her head. "No, it's not. You can't get Arya out of your head because she's the one that you're meant to be with. There is nobody else out there for you. In Kylrian culture, we believe that the gods make us all to in special companionship with another being. Once you find that person, you can't let them go. If I know anything, Arya's pining for you as much as you are pining for her."

Eragon let out a deep sigh. "I know," he admitted. "Somehow I've always known. It just gets so frustrating!"

"The harder your try, the more satisfied you'll be in the end," Circe smiled. "Now, what are you waiting for? Go now! Tell Arya how you really feel."

Eragon nodded, smiling. "You're right, Circe. Thank you so much."

Circe watched him leave with a satisfied smile on her face, and Murtagh approached her from behind. "Care to dance?" he asked with a crooked smile.

* * *

Eragon found Arya standing by herself away from the main party. It was darker in the little grove of trees that she'd chosen to isolate herself in. Eragon cocked his head curiously and watched her. "What's going on?" he asked as he came up behind her.

Arya whirled around angrily. "Like you don't know!" she snapped. "I thought you cared about me."

Eragon was thoroughly confused at these words. "I do care about, Arya, more than you know. What makes you say those horrible things?"

Arya nearly snorted in disgust. "Who was that blonde wench with her tongue down your throat?" she spat. Seeing Eragon's look of shook and surprise, she added, "Oh yes, I saw you. Disgusting display of affection!"

Eragon sighed. "Arya, you don't understand," he began.

"What's there to understand?" she demanded. "Mad about my rejecting you for the third time, you threw yourself at the next thing you saw!"

"It's not like that at all," he insisted. "It wasn't some blonde elf at all. It was Circe."

"Are elves not good enough for you now?"

"No," Eragon told her. "I love the elves. Circe was trying to teach me a lesson."

"Oh, really?" Arya shouted. "What was she teaching you? How to kiss properly?"

"She helped me realized how much I really care about you, Arya Svit-kona."

Arya's expression softened. "What?" she asked.

"I realized that you're the only one for me, Arya. I can't give up on you because you're the only one that I'll ever love. I love you Arya Svit-kona, more than you can ever know."

Arya flung her arms around Eragon and engulfed him in a humongous hug. "I'm so sorry," she whispered in his ear. "I'm so sorry I've hurt you, but I was only trying to not get hurt myself. I learned something tonight too."

"Oh yeah?" Eragon asked blissfully. "What's that?"

"Love is worth the risk, Eragon. I love you." Elf and Rider smiled at each other before giving in to a long kiss. Finally, they could agree that they loved each other.

Roran, Katrina, Murtagh and Circe stood at the edge of the fire watching the two lovebirds. They were all wearing large grins.

Roran looked around at the others. "Well, my friends," he said. "I'd say we've been successful."

"Aye," Murtagh agreed. "Our little plan had worked."

Katrina turned to Roran. "Now we can work these two," she said with a smile.

Murtagh and Circe gave each other looks of confusion and Roran laughed.

"I have no idea what you're talking about!" they shouted at the same time.


	15. Chapter 15: Tracked & Ambushed

Theme: Faint by Linkin Park… It fits nicely for the battle sequence.

**Chapter Fifteen: Tracked & Ambushed**

Now that Oromis was dead and Islanzadí's birthday celebrations were finished, there was nothing keeping Eragon and his companions in Ellesméra and he couldn't ignore his duty to the Varden any longer. With fresh supplies including food and materials for lightweight tents and Islanzadí's blessing, Eragon, Arya, Saphira, Roran, Katrina, Garrow, Murtagh, Circe and Thorn departed from Ellesméra at day two days after Islanzadí's birthday. The elves should have already arrived in Aberon with those from Galbatorix's army that Circe deemed trustworthy, as it had been over a month since the Battle of Isenstar Lake.

Garrow was now big enough to hold both Roran and Katrina on his back and this eliminated the need for extra mounts; Eragon and Arya rode Saphira and Murtagh and Circe were on Thorn. With the exception of Katrina and Circe, everyone was armed with a sword of some sort, a bow and a quiver of arrows, though Roran really wanted his hammer back. Katrina had a small bow, and Circe was armed only with her magic. They all wore travel clothes and dark elven cloaks designed to help shield them from view of the Empire's agents.

By dusk on the first day, they cleared the lush trees of Du Weldenvarden and decided to continue south through the Hadarac Desert in hopes of avoiding Urû'baen and other Imperial cities. At dusk on the second and third day, they were in the heart of the desert.

After diner on the third night, the six of them returned to their tents weary from three straight days of travel astride dragons. The dragons themselves had gone off hunting and hadn't returned yet.

Eragon awoke with a start that night. There was a sinking feeling in his heart. Groggily, he reached out to Saphira through their mind link. She still hadn't returned to camp yet. _Come back_, he told her urgently. _Something bad's going to happen._

_I'm on my way_, was Saphira's serious reply.

He rose from his bedroll to see that Arya was still sleeping silently on the other side of the tent. He pulled on his tunic and attached his blue sword that he'd named Wyrda, meaning fate, to his belt before going over to wake her up. "Arya!" he said in an urgent whisper. "Arya, wake up!"

In an instant, the elf was up with a previously concealed knife at the Rider's throat. She sighed when she realized it was just Eragon and lowered the knife. "What is it? Why do you wake me in the middle of the night?"

"Something bad's going to happen," he whispered. "Come. Get up."

Arya nodded and pulled her cloak over herself, concealing her knife and taking her bow and sword. Eragon crept over to the tent's opening and a shrill shriek rang throughout the night, sending an all too familiar shiver down the Rider's spine. "Ra'zac," he whispered in horror as he drew Wyrda and stepped outside into the cold night air.

There was a sword pressed to his throat.

The Shadeslayer gasped and looked around the camp. During the night, it had been infiltrated by the King's Men. At least fifty men in Galbatorix's red crested tunic were poised at the entrances to each of the three tents, waiting for someone to leave. In the middle of the camp, now approaching Eragon, were the two Ra'zac themselves. He watched the scene in grim realization that their little plan had failed to trick Galbatorix. He had seen through Circe's magical veneers of their deaths. Either that or Circe had betrayed them.

The Rider took a deep breath and stretched out through his mind link to Murtagh and Roran, each in their own tents. _We've been found by the Empire_, he said grimly. _Our camp has been infiltrated by Galbatorix's been and the Ra'zac. Get up and ready, but be silent. Wait for my signal. _The two sent back messages of agreement; though they didn't seem at ease with the idea of simply waiting for Eragon's orders.

Eragon nodded and stared at the Ra'zac, trying not to give away his panic.

"We knew we would find you. You can not essscape usss," one of them hissed from beneath its hood.

Eragon forced a grin. "It's nice to see you again too," he said sarcastically, tightening his grip on Wyrda and preparing to attack the man holding a sword at his throat. Where was Saphira?

"Human ssscum!" the second Ra'zac spat at him.

Suddenly, soldier that held him with his sword let out a cry of agony and fell over, dead with a knife in his back. Eragon couldn't help smiling again. Arya was there for him. She emerged from the tent with her sword drawn and it was time.

_Now! _Eragon shouted to Roran and Murtagh. There were screams from the guards by the other tents as the other soldiers attacked Eragon and Arya who had moved so they could fight back to back. Soldier after soldier fell to their deadly teamwork and Wyrda's sapphire blade.

Murtagh emerged from his tent with Zar'roc in his hand. One of the King's Men ran at him, but Zar'roc swung up and made contact with the soldier's throat, cleaning severing his neck. As the man's head fell to the ground and rolled away, his body collapsed and Murtagh took his sword, running at another assailant with Zar'roc in his right hand and the stolen sword in his left. Circe was out of the tent right behind him, shielded by a magical ward on herself, she bore no physical weapon, but countless men fell at the hand of her magic.

Roran was out of his tent with a loud battle cry, wishing for the millionth time that he had his hammer in his hands again. Otho, the green sword that he named after the dwarvish word for faith, was in his hands now, and he would make the best of it. He used it like his hammer, slicing open a man's skull with the same movement he used to smash one and severing limbs using the same motion that he'd used to break bones. Soon, Otho's green blade was barely visible under the blood of his enemies. Katrina was his unseen archer, hidden in the tent and shooting down anyone who tried to come at him from behind.

With their combined strength, it wasn't long at all before it was just the three Riders, the elf, the Kylrian, the human and the two Ra'zac left in the clearing. Eragon and Arya turned to face each other and the Ra'zac. Murtagh, Roran and Circe stepped over the dead soldiers' bodies to stand next to Eragon and Arya. Even Katrina came out of the tent and took her place next to Roran.

"You have lost," Murtagh growled. "Go back to Galbatorix now and perhaps we'll let you live."

The Ra'zac merely laughed and drew their swords.

"We aren't giving up that easssily," one of them growled back at Murtagh. "You ssshould have ssstayed with your massster."

The other one glared at Roran. "And you ssshould have come with usss without a fight. Then we wouldn't be in thisss horrible messssss."

Roran spat at them and raised Otho. "Your king should know by now that we will never join him."

The two evildoers laughed again. With inhumane speed, one of them snatched Katrina away from Roran yet again. She screamed and Roran ran after them.

"Perhapsss ssshe can convince you to change your mind when ssshe'sss dying in Drasss-Leona," the monster shouted back at Roran who was in hot pursuit.

The other one cackled, "We ssshould have killed her when we had the chance."

The surviving lethrblaka descended by the sky and the one of the Ra'zac dragged Katrina on with him. The other turned around to face Roran with his sword.

Suddenly, there was a thunderous roar from the sky and three large shapes were visible on the horizon: Saphira, Thorn and Garrow. The three dragons had finally returned. Garrow landed right next to Roran and his Rider quickly knocked his Ra'zac opponent to the ground and mounted the dragon, which took off in pursuit of Katrina and the lethrblaka. Saphira, Eragon, Thorn and Murtagh were right behind him.

The Ra'zac on the ground had recovered from Roran's blow and was quickly advancing on Arya and Circe, left alone on the ground when the dragons took to the sky with their Riders. The two women glanced at each other and nodded in understanding. Together, with Arya's skilled swordsmanship and Circe's powerful magical ability, they could vanquish this foe.

The foul Imperial agent ran at the two of them, sword high in attack position. Arya blocked and swung her own sword around towards its neck while Circe concentrated her energy on magical wards around herself and Arya. Once they were untouchable, she prepared to attack the sinister beast. The monster growled, barely blocking Arya's sword. Its eyes fell on Circe, seemingly unprotected. The Ra'zac threw its blade toward the witch, only to see it explode into flames as it made contact with her magical ward. Circe smiled and knocked the desecrator to the ground with her magic. Arya took the honor of finishing off the horrible monster with her sword.

Meanwhile in the sky high above them, Roran, Eragon and Murtagh rode atop their dragons chasing after the remaining Ra'zac and lethrblaka who had once again stolen Katrina from Roran. It was difficult. Even though they were close enough, they couldn't breathe fire at the monsters or Katrina would be burned as well. Roran was uneasy about arrows too. One gust of the wind and it would miss its target, perhaps impaling Katrina as well.

Eragon and Murtagh quickly grew tired of this stalemate chase. They had to do something, attack in someway. "Roran!" Eragon shouted. "We have to do something! We have to shoot down that Ra'zac to save Katrina."

"No!" Roran yelled back. "It's too risky."

"Didn't you just give Arya a speech about taking risks?" Murtagh growled impatiently. "You're a bloody hypocrite!"

Roran glared at him. "Fine!" he gave in. "Let me take care of it, then. You two go back to Arya and Circe. I left a Ra'zac down there with them."

"They'll be fine!" Eragon shouted. "Let us help you!"

Roran nodded. "Each of you come in real close on either side of that monster," he instructed. "I'll dive down from above and Garrow can grab Katrina."

Eragon and Murtagh nodded and steered Saphira and Thorn around to either side of the Ra'zac and lethrblaka. The Ra'zac snarled and drew its sword, swinging it over at Eragon and Saphira. Saphira growled and bit it right out of his hand, throwing it down to the ground below. Murtagh took advantage of the Ra'zac's distraction and plunged Zar'roc into his back. The monster yelped and fell off his mount's back.

Roran came in overtop of the lethrblaka right after that and Garrow grabbed a screaming Katrina in his claws. Roran expressed his thanks to Eragon and Murtagh and flew back to the camp with his fiancée.

"Let's finish this monster!" Murtagh shouted to Eragon, still next to the lethrblaka. "Move out of the way so we can toast this thing and get on with our journey!" Eragon nodded and Saphira descended, eventually touching back down at the camp.

_Torch that thing and put it out of its misery_, Murtagh told Thorn.

_My pleasure_, Thorn replied, raising his hand and letting a long jet of flame engulf the howls and shrieks of his victim.

Pleased with their work, Rider and dragon followed their companions back down to their camp, now covered with blood and bodies left over from the earlier battle. When Thorn landed, the breaking of dead bones could be heard as he crushed the skulls of dead soldiers with his feet. Murtagh dismounted and ran over to the rest of the group.

The weary companions retreated to Eragon's tent with wary eyes on Circe. Eragon wasn't sure what had happened, how Galbatorix had discovered them. "Are you sure that you actually sent Galbatorix false images of Roran and Murtagh's deaths at Isenstar Lake?" he asked the Kylrian witch suspiciously. "It doesn't look like the King believes us to be death."

"Yes!" Circe tried to explain. "He must have seen through them. I told you many, many times that he was much more powerful than me. I told you that there was a chance, however small, that he would not believe what he saw."

"Are you sure you didn't betray us?" Eragon asked with narrowed, accusing eyes. He had never been too sure of Circe. He was never sure that they could trust her, that she wouldn't turn on them. Especially when she hadn't agreed to help them right away.

"That's outrageous!" Murtagh shouted indignantly.

"Is it really?" Eragon asked his brother. "Is it really so absurd to think that someone who lived under Galbatorix's control for her whole life wouldn't be loyal to him? Wouldn't betray us to him?"

"You trust me, don't you?" Murtagh challenged, daring Eragon to say no.

"That's different," Eragon told him.

"Is it really, Eragon? Me and Circe and really very much alike if you think about it," Murtagh pointed out. "You trust me. Why can't you trust her?" Eragon lowered his gaze.

"I agree with Murtagh," said Arya. "Circe helped me to kill a Ra'zac earlier. I do not think that she intentionally allowed Galbatorix to know the truth. He is the most powerful man in all of Alagaësia. It is most difficult to fool him."

Eragon sighed and relented, forced to accept that Circe was not a traitor. "Go back to your beds," he ordered. "It is still nighttime. Get your rest for we ride again tomorrow."


	16. Chapter 16: Returning to Aberon

Only two reviews for last chapter? I know you can do better...

_voyfan7_: Uh huh. That's definitely going to come into play a bit later. Whether Circe is absolutely loyal or not has yet to be determined.

_Wannabeanauther_: Wait no longer, my friend, for the next chapter has arrived.

Oh and I was unable to come up with some music for this chapter. I hope you're not too disappointed.

**Chapter Sixteen: Returning to Aberon**

After their last encounter with the Ra'zac and the King's Men, everyone was glad to pass over the Surdan border and see Aberon appear on the horizon. Not only was this the capital city of Surda, an independent country that opposed Galbatorix, but it was also the home of the Varden, a rebel organization dedicated to bringing down Galbatorix and his followers. Not doubt Nasuada and the others were worried about them. Eragon, Roran and Saphira had left Aberon over two months ago with promises to return as soon as possible. Now they were finally coming back, with six new companions and allies to the Varden.

From atop their dragons, the cheers of the crowds of people in the streets of Aberon could be heard. The Dragon Riders were returning & oppressed civilians knew that that meant that an end to Galbatorix's reign was coming soon. _We are their only hope_, Eragon told Saphira gravely. _Oromis knew it. If we can't destroy Galbatorix, then nobody can._

Saphira nodded her head. _We can do it. We must have hope for the future or it is destined to remain shrouded in the darkness & oppression of the past._

Lady Nasuada of the Varden and King Orrin of Surda along with Orik the dwarf, Elva the cursed girl, Trianna of Du Vrangr Gata, Angela the fortuneteller, her werecat Solembum and a group of King Orrin's guard were ready to meet the group of Dragon Riders in the courtyard. One of the villagers must have brought news to the palace of dragons approaching from the north.

"Welcome back, Great Shadeslayer," Nasuada said with a warm smile after Thorn, Saphira and Garrow had landed and their riders dismounted.

Eragon approached his liegelord and bowed before her. "I am terribly sorry that it has taken so long to return, Milady," he said sincerely. "But trouble befell us at Helgrind and things did not go as planned."

Nasuada nodded in understanding. "You may tell me your tales later, Eragon," she told him, her eyes quickly falling on Garrow, Katrina and Circe, the ones she did not recognize, and Murtagh and Thorn, the ones she did not expect to see again when Eragon returned. "Now you may care to explain who you have brought back with you."

Eragon nodded, turning around to motion to each of his new companions, "This is Katrina," he began. "She's Roran's fiancée. Garrow is Roran's newly hatched dragon. Circe… Circe's a Kylrian who… formerly served Galbatorix. Murtagh and his dragon Thorn have agreed to help us to destroy Galbatorix."

Nasuada stepped forward cautiously, seeming to suspiciously inspect Circe, Murtagh and Thorn. Eragon held his breath, knowing where this was going to lead. Murtagh was definitely going to be bitter toward the Varden for life. Nasuada turned back to the guards and snapped her fingers. "Arrest them," she said with authority.

Before anyone could do anything, Thorn leapt forward to stand between the guards and Murtagh. He growled menacingly, eyes blazing with anger and nostrils flaring threateningly. Murtagh narrowed his eyes and put his hand on Zar'roc's hilt, but knew he had to call Thorn back.

_Calm down_, he told the dragon bitterly. _It's not worth it. Just let them take me. I can assure you that they will not kill me. _

Thorn roared one last time before stepping back at his Rider's command. _If they hurt you in any way, they won't live long enough to regret it, _he growled.

Everyone watched as they were led away by the soldiers. However, Eragon wasn't too happy with Murtagh and Thorn's imprisonment, though he agreed with Nasuada about Circe, especially since their attack by the Ra'zac. "Do you really think he's going to betray you? He's been true to his word ever since we left Urû'baen!" he had the courage to shout at Nasuada.

Nasuada silenced him with a glare. "I cannot be as sure as you, Eragon. I have the entire Varden to think of. I cannot take the risk. Besides, the Varden know that a red Rider killed Hrothgar at the Burning Plains and the people of Alagaësia haven't dealt with a Kylrian for longer than anyone here can remember. We cannot be sure what to think of them. Suspicion and wariness have kept the Varden alive since its founding."

Arya touched Eragon's shoulder. "Nasuada's right, Eragon," she said gently. "Murtagh's too unpredictable. It's for the best. He will be let out soon enough." Eragon let out a deep breath and let the argument go. He looked to the others present like Orik, his long time Dwarf friend, and Elva, the poor baby that he'd cursed in Tronjheim. Nasuada was right. It was for the best.

Nasuada smiled as she realized that Eragon wasn't going to argue anymore. She shifted her attention to Arya, saying, "You will be pleased to know that your Elven kin arrived here more than half a month ago with a group of the King's Guard."

Arya smiled back, unable to resist the urge to say where the men came from. "Those of the King's Guard were handpicked by Circe, the witch you just had imprisoned," she informed her.

Nasuada's smile faded. "Then I shall have their minds checked for traitorous intentions," she turned to Trianna who nodded and hurried off to complete her task. Arya sighed, but remained silent. Nasuada's attention shifted to Roran and Katrina. She smiled warmly at Roran. "Welcome back, Stronghammer. It seems you have brought us a new gift," she said, eyes wandering towards Garrow.

"He was the last dragon egg. His name is Garrow," Roran informed her.

"Then we are quite lucky to have her on our side," said Nasuada. Her attention moved yet again, this time to Katrina. "I am Lady Nasuada of the Varden," she introduced herself. "This is King Orrin of Surda, Elva, Angela the fortuneteller, her werecat Solembum and King Orik of the Dwarves."

Katrina smiled back. "I am Katrina of Carvahall," she said. "Pleased to meet you."

Eragon looked to Orik with astounded fascination. "_King_ Orik of the Dwarves?" he asked with a curious smile. "It seems that I have missed a great deal."

Orik grinned. "Don't worry, Argetlum," he chuckled. "You shall hear the tale in full just as soon as we get inside."

Angela nodded in agreement. "Aye, Nasuada," she said. "It would be better to talk inside, Galbatorix's spies are everywhere."

Nasuada nodded. "Very well," she said, turning back toward Borromeo Castle.

* * *

Murtagh and Circe allowed themselves to be taken away by King Orrin's men and led deep in Borromeo Castle to the dungeons. Murtagh was brutally reminded of his first visit to the Varden with Eragon and Saphira. Then, Ajihad, Nasuada's father, arrested him, solely because he was the son of Morzan. He knew that he had a reason for being arrested this time, he had served the King and killed the Dwarven King Hrothgar, but that didn't stop his anger. He was livid. He knew that Thorn was being chained and imprisoned at that very moment and that Circe was only being imprisoned because she'd been a _servant_ to the King.

His weapons had been taken away and he was alone in the dungeons with Circe. Furious, he kicked the stone wall in an attempt to let out some anger. However, it didn't work and his toes throbbed with pain.

Circe was examining the bars of the cell and suddenly turned to him with a mischievous smile. "I could easily change into a mouse or even a cat and escape this cell, or either one of us could unlock it with magic," she said, surprised at the Varden's carelessness.

Murtagh shook his head and sat down in the corner. "It is a test," he sighed bitterly. "That's why there's no guards. They want to see if we're trustworthy. All we can do is to wait."

* * *

"So who would like to speak first?"

Eragon, Arya, Roran, Katrina, Nasuada, Orrin, Orik, Elva, Angela and Solembum all sat in a circle of chairs in one of the meetings rooms in Borromeo Castle. Nasuada had just asked who would like to tell the story of their recent adventures first.

"I would very much like to hear the Rider's tale," said King Orrin watching Eragon and Roran with great interest.

Orik and Angela nodded their heads in agreement. "Tell us, Argetlum," Orik beckoned. "What has happened to you since you left here over two months ago."

Eragon sighed. "All right, all right, I'll tell you, but it'll be a long tale, as much has happened since we parted to go to Helgrind."

"Saphira flew as fast as her wings could carry her and by nightfall on the first night we were in Cithrí with your Lord Smythe. We left for Helgrind that morning with full stomachs and bulging sattle bags. We arrived at the dreadful place by dusk the next day to find a vile surprise lying in wait for us: Galbatorix and Murtagh. Needless to say, we were no match for the Rider King and we were captured by him and brought back to Urû'baen. As soon as we awakened, we were brought before the King himself and he was displeased to hear of my pledge of fealty to you, Nasuada, and he vowed to break it."

Nasuada's eyes fell on Elva. "It was just as we feared then," she said, looking back at Eragon. "A while ago, Elva told us that you'd been captured and were about to endure some great pain. We feared that you'd been captured by Galbatorix."

Eragon nodded solemnly. "But you have yet to hear the rest of the story. Roran will tell you what happened next and how the dragon Garrow came to be."

Roran picked up with his part of the story at that moment. "Galbatorix sent Eragon away and sent a servant to fetch Garrow's egg. Soon after I laid my hands on it, its green shell began to crack and I was left with this on my hand," he paused and held up his palm to show them his gedwëy ignasia. "Galbatorix promptly sent the little dragon down to Saphira, Thorn and Shruikan. I was distraught at his next move. You see, the Rider King set a choice before me: pledge myself to him in the ancient language or never see Katrina again. You can probably guess my choice, for I would do anything for Katrina… even submit myself to Galbatorix."

There was silence in the room after Roran said that. Nobody dared to speak, but Eragon knew what was on the minds of Nasuada, Orrin, Orik and Angela. It was Nasuada that spoke first. "That is troubling, my Rider," she said quietly.

Orrin nodded slowly. "We were blithe when we saw your dragon on the horizon and know we are disappointed to learn that you have pledged yourself to the enemy."

"Aye, I know," Roran agreed. "But I could never abandon Katrina," he took her hand in his as he said this, "Not after it's all my fault she was mixed in this mess."

Nasuada sighed. "Please, continue with your story, Shadeslayer, Stronghammer. I would like to hear the rest before telling the news of the Varden."

Eragon nodded and finished off the tale rather quickly. Only after he spoke of their recent attack by the Ra'zac and the King's Men did Nasuada seem satisfied with his story, though nobody was happy to hear that Circe had not fooled Galbatorix and that the King did not believe them to be dead. In fact, Nasuada was even surer of her order to have the witch arrested. Eragon didn't bother to argue with her for he had never trusted Circe either. She was only with them because of Murtagh's desire to bring her along. In fact, he would rather she never had been introduced to them.

Hearing his thoughts, Solembum the werecat touched his mind with a sly smile. _Do not be so quick to throw her out of the picture_, he said. _She still has a part to play, but for good or for ill, I cannot be sure._

Eragon looked at the werecat curiously. _I would rather she didn't_, he said dryly. _All she's done is cause us trouble_.

Solembum laughed. _Do not be so quick to judge, Argetlum. Dealing in absolutes can only take you to a dark place. You must be careful to take everything into consideration._

Eragon scowled and blocked the werecat out of his mind. He didn't need to be scolded by a cat. He shifted his attention back to the situation at hand. "What news of the Varden, Nasuada?" he asked.

"With the help of the elves and the dwarves, we plan to march on Urû'baen as soon as you are ready, Shadeslayer," she answered gravely.

"It's a very ambitious undertaking," King Orrin added. "But we think with our two Dragon Riders we should be able to manage it."

Eragon leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin pensively. "Two Riders you say? Your Highness, you forget about Murtagh."

"He cannot be trusted," said the King, reminding Eragon for what seemed like the millionth time that Murtagh was imprisoned.

"But he is valuable in a fight," Eragon persisted.

"Enough of this!" Nasuada silenced him again. "Will you go with us or not, Shadeslayer?"

Eragon nodded. "I will go with you, Milady," he answered. "But I will feel better with my brother at my side."

"Very well," said Nasuada. "Then all business here is done. I will have rooms prepared for the four of you." Everyone rose with her and Orrin out of respect and started to walk out of the room. Eragon lagged behind to catch Orik. He was quite curious to learn of how he became king.

"How are you, old friend?" he asked the dwarf with a warm smile.

Orik smiled back at him. "As good as can be expected in these times," he answered. "It's good to have you back, Argetlum."

"It's good to be back, Your Highness."

Orik grinned. "You need not call me that, Eragon. Those titles are not for use between friends."

"I would like to hear how it happened," Eragon said. "Could you tell me what made the dwarves chose you for their king?"

Orik chuckled softly. "Believe it or not, Argetlum, but it was my friendship with you."

"Me?"

Orik nodded. "Yes, you. The dwarves were pleased with the way Hrothgar led them to the Varden and to you. They wanted someone who would continue to do so, so they chose me. Being Hrothgar's heir helped a bit too."

Eragon patted Orik on the back. "Congratulations," he told him. "Long live the king!"


	17. Chapter 17: Hope & Shadow

Eight reviews last chapter. That's the most I've ever gotten for a single chapter. Merci beaucoup! 

Dragon Rider of Alagaesia: Thanks. Glad you liked it. And it was pretty obvious that Orik will be the next Dwarf King

voyfan7: Don't worry, I can't keep Murtagh in prison long. He is my favorite character. As for breaking the vows in the ancient language, well, we'll have to see about that.

G.A. Clive: Okay, so perhaps I made a mistake. Nobody's perfect. Glad you liked it.

fAteD lOvE: Glad you like it.

Canadian-Girl14: Glad you like it.

Lady Shana: Hugs back with imprisoning Murtagh I was hoping to do two things: bring out a similarity between Nasuada and Ajihad and show how the Varden still distrust him. Glad you like it.

13BlacKAnGELs: Haha, glad you like it. Circe's loyalty _is_ definitely going to play a part in the final battle; perhaps it may even start to in the next chapter…

Ace Is Wild: Thank you. It's always nice to hear from new reviewers.

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen: Hope for the Future & Shadows of the Past**

Soon enough, the people of the Varden had something else to celebrate besides the return of their hero, Eragon Shadeslayer. The new Rider Roran Stronghammer was going to be married later that evening to his beloved fiancée Katrina of Carvahall.

The young couple had waited a very long time to be married and endured a great deal of pain because of their love for one another. As Roran struggled to make a life that he could support Katrina with, she told him that her father was trying to marry her off and Roran was forced to propose to her without the vile butcher's permission. As a result, Sloan had betrayed Roran to the Ra'zac and the desecrators had taken him and Katrina back to Helgrind while Roran worked quickly, convincing the entire village to go the Surda. Then, like he had vowed, he rescued Katrina with the help of Eragon. Now, they were finally going to be married.

Roran sat by the fire in his bedroom with his cousin Eragon sipping a brandy and fantasizing about the events of the near future, namely, his wedding. A huge grin was plastered upon his previously worn out face and he felt like a new man. Now, it was hard to remember what it was like when he was haunted by the Ra'zac and fleeing Palancar Valley with the whole village.

He held up his mug to Eragon's. "To you, cousin," he said. "Without you I wouldn't be here."

"Without me we'd all be back in Carvahall. None of this would have ever happened," Eragon answered gravely.

"Aye," Roran agreed. "But today is no day for such grim thinking, Eragon, for today is my wedding day."

Eragon smiled slightly. "Aye! You're right," he said, taking a big gulp of his drink.

"You know," said Roran quietly. "I've always dreamt about today, but I never thought it would really happen… especially after the Ra'zac came to Carvahall, especially after Galbatorix."

"I never thought I would be traveling Alagaësia on the back of a dragon," said Eragon, "but we can all see that that happened."

Roran laughed. "And now, all of a sudden, the day that I've always dreamed about is here. Katrina will finally be my wife. I've never been happier."

* * *

"Oh! I've never been as happy as I am right now," Katrina confessed, standing on a pedestal with maids hovering about, making final adjustments and modifications to her dress. It was a beautiful, floor length, V-neck, three quarter length sleeve dress adorned with lace made by the Varden's spellcasters. Her copper hair cascaded down her back in curls underneath a lace veil that reached her lower back.

Arya and Nasuada were there with her, smiling and standing off to the side supervising the final altercations to the dress. "And so it should be," said Nasuada. "You'll be married by the end of the night."

Arya nodded. "May the stars shine over the rest of your life together with Roran."

A few moments later, the maids backed away from Katrina as their modifications and adjustments were complete. Katrina was dazzling in her sparkling white wedding dress and veil. Nasuada stepped forward to help me down off the stool. "Come," she said, "It is nearly time."

* * *

Everyone who was anyone in the Varden was present at the wedding. Nasuada and King Orrin along with Orik, Angela, Elva, Solembum, Eragon and Arya all stood towards the front of the outdoor courtyard. Roran had chosen to have the ceremony outside to accommodate the dragons, especially his own Garrow. Even Murtagh and Circe were there because of Roran and Katrina's wishes to have their friends and traveling companions present at the wedding. They stood next to Eragon and Arya.

Roran took Katrina's hands in his and brought his face in close to hers. Though neither of them spoke much of the ancient language, they had memorized the eternally binding vows in the ancient language that were said at all weddings in Alagaësia. Roran smiled down into Katrina's face and began to speak in the ancient language, "With these words I profess my love for you, Katrina. At this moment, I bind myself to you for all eternity. With this kiss," he paused, leaned in close to her and kissed her gently, "I vow to spend the rest of my life with you."

Eragon took Arya's hand as Katrina blushed and continued the ceremony with her part of the vows. "With these words I profess my love for you, Roran. At this moment, I bind myself to you for all eternity. With this kiss," she stood her tiptoes to reach his lips with hers, "I vow to spend the rest of my life with you."

As they recognized they end of the vows, the crowd broke into thunderous applause and a little messenger boy came forward and presented a pair of silver elven made rings, each encrusted with a emerald dragon and the names of Roran and Katrina engraved in the metal. Roran took the ring and, grinning, said to his bride as he slipped it onto her finger, "May this ring be but a symbol of my undying love for you, Katrina. I love you, always and forever."

Katrina took the other ring and did the same for Roran. "May we always remember this day, my love," she whispered. The crowd erupted into applause again as Roran took Katrina in his arms and the two shared another kiss. After a moment or two, the couple parted and looked out into the crowd of their friends, still clapping for them.

The reception, too, was held in that courtyard. The sun was starting to go down and the courtyard was now lit by torches of fire hanging on the stonewalls and casting shadows on the tables of food and drink and on the merry partygoers. Music filled the air.

Murtagh sat alone in a dark corner observing he gathering with a cynical glare. How he hated the Varden. He would still be in prison right now if it wasn't for Roran and Katrina. They were on the brink of battle and here these foolish people of the Varden were having a party. They should be preparing for war. Galbatorix knew they had come to the Varden and nobody knew what he was planning behind those stonewalls in Urû'baen. For all they knew he could be waiting behind the gates of Aberon at that very moment! Well, if he were then the Varden would be paying for their foul treatment of him.

Thorn touched his mind. _Why are you there by yourself?_ he asked. _Everyone else is having fun dancing or otherwise just talking._

_They don't deserve my company_, Murtagh growled. _Mind your own business._

_Touchy, _replied the dragon. _If you don't mind, I'm going out to find something edible with Saphira._

Murtagh couldn't help but let a crooked smile show. _Funny how not that long ago you fought either other at the Burning Plains. Now you're inseparable._

Thorn growled. _We are not._

_Denial, _Murtagh teased.

Thorn flew off with a huff and a puff and Murtagh resumed his bitter observations of the party; though it wasn't long before the newlyweds came over with an extra drink in hand. Murtagh glared at them, but couldn't bring himself to snap at them on their wedding day, even if it had brought about a frivolous party.

Roran extended his hand with the drink to Murtagh. "Perhaps it'll liven you up a bit," he suggested. "You seem to be upset about something."

Murtagh took the drink and began to sip it. It had been so long since he'd touched alcohol, it did terrible things to the men in his family, but it tasted so good. He remembered terrible incidents when his father was drunk as a child, but he didn't care now. He was absolutely miserable at the moment and needed something to make him feel better. Slowly, he began to feel better and less bitter as his small sips turned into gulps. Soon enough, he was finished with the drink and tossed the cup aside.

"Aye," he said. "Terrible time for a party. Galbatorix could be waiting right on the other side of this wall and we're sitting around dancing and other nonsense."

Roran nodded. "But it is my wedding," he said, and walked away with Katrina, going back into the heart of the party.

Murtagh sighed and got to go and get another drink. He gulped it down and felt himself loosen even more. The music filled his ears and thoughts of the imminent battle ahead left his mind completely. He took another drink and tossed the cup away. "Gimme another!" he demanded of the bartender."

The man shook his head. "Nay, sir, but it seems you've had too many."

"Too many?" Murtagh asked, not taking notice that his speech was beginning to slur together. "Whadya mean too many?"

"You've had too much to drink already, sir."

Murtagh snarled and drew Zar'roc, pointing the red blade at the poor man's throat. "I'll tell ya when I've 'ad too many!"

"Okay! Okay, sir, okay!" said the man, pouring Murtagh another drink.

Murtagh grinned and sheathed Zar'roc. He took the drink from the man and gulped it down in an instant. He threw the cup over his shoulder as he saw Circe approaching. She came over and sat down next to him at the bar. "Hi," she said. "Why aren't you enjoying the party like everyone else?"

"I am enjoyin' meself!" Murtagh slurred.

Circe frowned and looked at him strangely. "Umm, Murtagh," she began. "How many drinks have you had?"

"I 'aven't had too many if that's what chyou mean!"

"You're drunk," she muttered in disgust as she stood up and took his arm. "Come on," she said comfortingly, "let's get you into one of those nice rooms Nasuada gave us."

Murtagh threw her away from his arm in an angry, drunken rage. "Gerroff me!" he shouted. "I'm not drunk!" Circe grabbed his arm tighter this time and managed to drag him out of the courtyard party and into the castle with great difficulty despite his protesting screams. "I'm not drunk!" he continued to scream drunkenly. "Gerroff me! Gerroff me!"

But Circe didn't let go of the drunk Rider until they reached his new room. Shortly after they arrived, he collapsed on the floor. Alarmed, Circe rushed over to him, but he wasn't passed out, yet. He rolled over onto his back and erupted into maniacal laughter. She groaned. "Come on, Murtagh," she pleaded. "It's time for you to go to sleep."

Murtagh stopped laughing. For a moment, Circe thought he was going to listen to her. He rose, but then came at her in an angry, drunken rage. The red Rider pinned her against the wall and then kicked her feet out from under her, causing the witch to fall to the ground. With an insane grin on his face, his lifted his tunic to show her the scar his father Morzan had given him when he was a child. "Do you like it?" he asked sadistically, a murderous gleam in his drunken eyes. Murtagh drew Zar'roc and pressed its red blade to her stomach. "I think you'd look good with one right here."

Circe frowned. "I hate to do this, Murtagh," she said sadly before muttering some words in Kylrese. Murtagh suddenly felt all the influence of the alcohol drain form his mind and was vaguely aware of dropping Zar'roc as his vision began to go black. He let out a groan as he fell over and was rendered unconscious by the Kylrian's magic.


	18. Chapter 18: Roots of the Menoa Tree

For some reason, I wasn't able to upload this yesterday like I'd planned.

Thank you, reviewers!

13BlacKAnGELs: Glad you liked it. Circe's loyalties will be questioned in this chapter, but that won't be the end of it.

Skycrasher498: New reviewer! Glad to see you like it. Continue to review in the future!

Dragon Rider of Alagaësia: Lmao. Reading your review had me rolling on the floor laughing out loud.

G.A. Clive: Aye. It is quite sad that he's just like Morzan.

Voyfan7: Glad you liked it. Yes, perhaps, he was 'talking' with Arya. Lol

Raindancer20: Another new reviewer! Glad to hear you love it so much.

**Chapter Eighteen: "Roots" of the Menoa Tree**

Needless to say, Murtagh was dreadfully hung over the next morning. His head was pounding, his stomach was overcome with nausea and he could barely remember what had happened the night before. He knew that Roran and Katrina's wedding had been last night, but why was he feeling this bad? Had some evil spell been cast on him?

No sooner had he stumbled over to the window than Thorn came and landed on the balcony with him. The red dragon flared its nostrils in anger. _What in the name of Alagaësia do you think you were doing last night?_ he glared at his Rider.

_To tell you the truth, Thorn, I really haven't a clue, _Murtagh growled. _I feel like death warmed over. Would you care to tell me why?_

Thorn looked ready to attack him. _You really don't remember? It's worse than I thought then. I can't even leave you alone for a minute and you go and get yourself drunk!_

_Drunk?_ Murtagh asked. Things were slowly starting to make sense and come back to him. He was irritated with the frivolous party that was going on and had been quite inclined to accept when Roran offered him a drink. Why in the world had he been so stupid? He knew that he'd inherited his father's alcoholism. He knew that it was only going to take him to his father's demise.

_Yes,_ Thorn snapped, _drunk! You know you really should be _a little_ bit more careful. Perhaps you've forgotten, but we're in the middle of a war. It will only help Galbatorix if you die from your bloody alcoholism._

Murtagh sighed and leaned against the balcony railing. _Die… if I ever find himself back in Galbatorix's clutches, then I would be happy with death. I would be no help to Galbatorix if I killed myself. He sees me as his pawn just like he did with my father. I think he expects me to die for him. It would only help the Varden. I would rather die than help Galbatorix again._

_That's very noble of you_, said Thorn grimly. _But you can't kill yourself. If you die… so does your dragon! Remember!_

_I'd forgotten_, Murtagh responded, stroking Thorn's scaly neck. _I'm sorry._

Thorn nodded, gazing down into the courtyard. _Your girlfriend's there, just walking around. She seems sad._

Murtagh nearly struck the dragon, but stopped himself when he remembered how hard his scales were. _She's not my girlfriend! _he told his companion indignantly.

Thorn chuckled. _If you say so._

_Oh, go flirt with Saphira or something and leave me alone! _Murtagh shouted back, stumbling back into his room. He snatched his black cloak from the floor and fastened Zar'roc to his belt before making his way out the door and down to the main courtyard where they had first met Nasuada.

When he arrived, Circe was just standing there in the middle of the courtyard by herself. She wore a green cloak over a borrowed tunic and breeches and the hood was pulled around her dark hair. She seemed to be fixated with a spot out on the horizon, to the north towards Urû'baen. Murtagh came up behind her. "What's wrong?" he asked.

She was surprised by his sudden presence, but didn't turn around to look at him, yet. "I had a dream last night. Actually, it was more of a nightmare or a vision," she said with a distant voice. "He knows that I' here. He wants me back. He's having problems with his soldiers and wishes that I were there to stop them. He's willing to come and get me… and you… and Eragon and Roran and the dragons too."

Murtagh was puzzled. "How can he know that you're here? You are free from Galbatorix. He cannot touch you here."

Circe turned around to face him. "You don't know his power. He has grown much, much more powerful since my father's murder. The veins of the Rider King now flow with Kylrian blood. He now has the power to do many things that you've never even dreamed of. He has opened the Vault of Souls. He'll kill the men in the army who I used to talk to since they won't obey him anymore. I have to go back. His reign of terror will be too great for anyone to stop if I don't."

"Go back?" Murtagh asked. "You can't go back. Who cares if he kills some men? Who cares if he's killed your father? Circe, you have to stay here. You're not safe anywhere else until Galbatorix is dead."

But Circe wasn't going to listen. "I have to go back," she repeated. "I am safe nowhere, especially not here. Galbatorix has unlocked the secret of the Vault of Souls and no one is safe anywhere. Perhaps if I go back willingly, my punishment will be less severe."

Murtagh sighed. "Nasuada was right to lock you up," he whispered. "Go back to Galbatorix now, and everything we've worked for will be destroyed."

"I would rather that than be destroyed by unstoppable evil," she whispered back, brushing past him and striding back toward the castle. But she didn't get very far before several armed guards stopped her with swords and spears at her throat. Circe growled in frustration. "Please let me pass, sirs," she said through gritted teeth.

"We can't do that, Milady, not after such treacherous words," replied one of the guards.

Circe groaned and looked back at Murtagh, standing there with a rather smug 'I told you so' grin on his face. She glared at him before turning back to the soldiers. "Sir, I am _ordering_ you to let me pass," she repeated. "Now, please, we don't want me to have to resort to my magic, now do we?"

"We are under orders of the King, Milady," replied the guard.

"Fine," Circe said curtly. "Have it your way." With a flick of her wrist, several of the guards were knocked unconscious by her magical ability. One of them shouted to one of his comrades at the door to run for the King and more men. Within a few moments, Circe was surrounded by the best of the King's men with their blades at her throat. Soon enough, Nasuada and Orrin came out into the courtyard.

Nasuada wore a satisfied grin on her face. "I knew I smelled a rat," she told the witch. "I was right in having you locked up and wrong in heeding the wishes of Roran and Katrina. Your loyalties have been revealed, traitor."

Circe stuck her chin in the air proudly. "Aye," she agreed. "My loyalties have been revealed, but I am no traitor. Is it such a crime to not want to betray and help murder the men I've known my whole life, to want to keep myself safe from the Rider King? I am no suicidal freedom fighter!"

"Loyalty to the King's Men is the same as loyalty to the King himself," said Orrin. "If you will not fight the Empire's armies, you will not fight at all."

"I've known these men their whole lives. They hate the King. They were either pressed into service unwillingly or had to join the army to support their families. They're fathers, husbands, brothers and sons. I will not kill them. My quarrel is with Galbatorix, not his pawns," Circe insisted. "But if you are so stubborn and heartless that you are willing to sacrifice countless innocent lives, so be it. Leave me out of it."

"Very well," Nasuada agreed. "Guards! Arrest her. Show her to the dungeons. She will no longer be a problem to us until we've destroyed Galbatorix."

The only thing in Circe's eyes as she glared at the two rebel leaders was pure, intense hatred. The guards bound her hands and led her away, back down into the dank dungeons. But this time, she didn't plan on sticking around for very long.

* * *

After the return of the newly loyal to the Varden Urgal armies came another pleasant surprise for the Varden: the arrival of the remainder of the elves from Du Weldenvarden including Islanzadí herself and several of the older, noble elven families seeking to put an end to Galbatorix's reign of terror. Combined with Orik's dwarven armies, and the human armies of Nasuada and Orrin, they truly were an accurate representation of how the peoples of Alagaësia felt about Galbatorix. If members of every species in Alagaësia had gathered together to fight the King, it was safe to say that he was quite unpopular.

_Saphira!_ Eragon called through his mind link to his friend and dragon. _Have you seen Wyrda? I can't find the sword anywhere._

It was a moment or two before Saphira sent her reply. _No. I haven't seen it. Why are you always loosing things?_

_I am _not_ always loosing things! _Eragon shouted indignantly. _I've simply misplaced it, that's all._

_Well I suggest you find it,_ said Saphira. _It looks like the armies are getting ready to march out._

_I know. I know,_ said Eragon, searching around his room frantically for Wyrda. Leave it to a sword from Galbatorix to get lost when he needed it most. He sighed and left his room when it was clear that Wyrda really wasn't hiding in his room. Perhaps he had lost it someplace else.

On his way down the corridor, he ran into two elves, both very old and wise looking. He smiled and nodded to them in acknowledgement as he passed by, but the older, male elf stopped him put two fingers to his lips, saying, "Atra esterní ono thelduin, Shur'tugal"

Eragon nodded, recognizing the significance of his speaking first. This elderly elf was giving Eragon status higher than him. The Blue Rider responded with the correct phrase, "Atra du evarínya ono varda."

"Un atra mor'ranr lífa unin hjarta onr," said the elf, giving the third response that was only given if you were being especially formal.

His female counterpart bowed low to Eragon. "Finally, we meet the greet Eragon Shadeslayer," she said with a warm smile. "Argetlam, for a long time have we waited for this moment."

"You've been waiting to meet me?" Eragon asked, confused. Why would these elves, which were no doubt very venerable in their community, wait so long just to meet him?

The male nodded. "We hear that you have been trained by the late Rider Brom."

Eragon nodded. "Aye. Brom was my teacher before Oromis. Why do you ask?"

The elf drew a sword from his belt and held it out to Eragon. It was very similar to Wyrda, the sword that Galbatorix had had made for him, but Eragon could sense the elven magic flowing through the crystals in the hilt. "This was Brom's sword," said the elf. "He lost it in a battle against the Empire. My family recovered and it has been in my possession ever since."

"We thought it was only fitting that it was given to you," said his companion.

Eragon reached out to take the sword as the elf unbuckled its sheath from his belt. "What is its name?" Eragon asked, admiring Brom's sword with an awestruck expression.

"Mor'ranr," said the elf.

"Peace," Eragon whispered with a smile. "It's fitting. Brom was always one to strive for peace. He hated the war." He looked back up at the elves. "Thank you."

The elves smiled. "You are most welcome, Shur'tugal. May Mor'ranr serve you as well as it served Brom." They bowed to the Blue Rider before turning and continuing on their way.

As Eragon put Mor'ranr on his belt, Arya came over. Her eyes fell on the retreating elves that had given Mor'ranr to Eragon. She looked at him in confusion. "What did they want with you?" she asked.

Eragon drew Mor'ranr from its sheath and showed it to Arya. "This is Mor'ranr, Brom's old sword. They gave it to me, said it was fitting that I have it. It's funny coincidence too. I'd lost Wyrda and was looking around for it when I ran into them."

Arya looked at Mor'ranr like she'd seen a ghost. "What exactly did Solembum tell you when you first met him in Teirm?"

"When the time comes and you need a weapon, look under the roots of the Menoa tree. Then, when all seems lost and your power is insufficient, go to the Rock of Kuthian and speak your name to open the Vault of Souls. But why do you ask?"

"Those two elves are of one of the oldest families in Ellesméra," Arya explained. "Do you remember the story of the Menoa tree? About Linnëa's singing herself into a tree?" Eragon nodded. "'Roots' has more than one meaning. Those elves were of Linnëa's family, her 'roots'."

"When the time comes and you need a weapon, look under the roots of the Menoa tree!" Eragon exclaimed. "Solembum's prophecy has come true!"

"The time has come and you needed a weapon. The roots of the Menoa tree have given you one," Arya said. "Come on, let's hurry before they all march out without us."


	19. Chapter 19: Fall of the Mage

Dragon Rider of Alagaësia: Once again, your review is hilarious. Thanks so much.

Raindancer20: Glad you enjoy it so much.

Voyfan7: Yup. If Eragon could open the Vault of Souls, he'd have a much better chance of defeating Galbatorix.

Swampfire Leatherweed: New reviewer! Yay! It just seemed too simple that roots would be meant literally. Glad to see that you enjoy it.

**Chapter Nineteen: Fall of the Mage**

A raven was silhouetted against the dark, cloudy sky as it approached Galbatorix's foreboding fortress at Urû'baen. It was cold and about to storm; the weather was setting the mood for the disastrous events about to occur, events that would forever change the fate of Alagaësia. As the Varden prepared to march on Galbatorix's capital, Circe the sorceress flew closer to her destiny in the symbolic form of a raven.

It had been fairly easy for the shape shifter to escape the Varden guards assigned to her cell. The poor fools were baffled when she changed to the form of a raven and simply flew out. You would think that Nasuada would have made sure that there were some mages guarding her cell, but she must have been thinking about other things. With mistakes like that, it was a wonder the Varden still existed. Once she made it outside, it was all smooth sailing. Though she was sure that Murtagh knew of her escape, nobody else had thought anything of the raven.

She aimed for the window of her former chambers in Galbatorix's palace; that was where all of her things would be and she would need to have her clothes if she were going to confront Galbatorix. As soon as she was inside, she resumed her humanoid form and pulled on one of the gowns, similar to those she wore in Galbatorix's court, and a black cloak. Just as she was about to leave and find Galbatorix, something made her stop.

Did she really want to do this? Was she really going to betray the Varden to Galbatorix and Murtagh along with them to save herself?

Yes, of course she was.

So far, her life had been nothing but heartache after heartache from meeting Galbatorix to her father's death. Her father had been the only one who genuinely cared for her, her light in the darkness and he had taught her to do whatever she could to get ahead in the world, that there wasn't a place for pushovers except in the poor house. Then, Galbatorix had killed her father so he could have even more power. She wanted revenge and she had to come back to get it. If she stayed with the Varden, then Eragon would get to him first. She wouldn't have been able to bear it.

Then she met Murtagh, her first true friend. She had thoroughly enjoyed those days after the Battle of Isenstar Lake. She wished they could have stayed out in the Hadarac Desert or made for Kylria across the sea instead of running to the Varden in Surda. The Varden, how she loathed them so! If it weren't for the Varden, Galbatorix wouldn't have thought he needed more power and then he wouldn't have killed her father. The stupid Varden! They had desperately needed more power to fight Galbatorix, but what do they do when the second most powerful mage in Alagaësia turns up on their doorstep? They lock her up. Twice.

Driven by a desire for revenge, Circe clearly wasn't thinking straight at all. A hatred for both sides of the war and a love for her own life clouded her vision. It had become quite clear to her that this war would destroy her. She planned to put an end to both her enemies at once. Then, she would be free and she would leave Alagaësia forever and go back to Kylria. Perhaps Murtagh and Thorn would come too.

With renewed zeal, Circe stormed down the corridors of Galbatorix's palace of death, plowing past any servants that got in her way. She had a very important meeting with Galbatorix, one that would end one of their lives. There was no stopping her now. There was no turning back.

Galbatorix was right where she knew he would be, his throne room. He was spending most of his time there, basking in the glory of his golden hall. What a vain ruler he was! His lips twisted into a sly smile when she entered, her eyes blazing with fury.

"Well, well, well," he greeted her. "What have we here? A runaway child come back to beg for forgiveness?"

"Hardly," she snapped, walking hastily across the hall until she stood in front of his gilded throne.

Galbatorix laughed. "You're fortunate that I'm a merciful king. Such treason should be punishable by death." He rose from his throne and came closer to her, close enough that Circe could count every one of his eyelashes. "However," he whispered, running his finger over her cheek, "I think I can make an exception for such a fair creature."

Circe drew away from him quickly. "Keep your forked tongue between your teeth," she hissed. "And do not be so quick to judge. I was kidnapped and did not go by my freewill."

Galbatorix frowned. "Do you really think that I'll believe that?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "You and I both know that you could have overpowered Murtagh easily if you wished to stay. Did you really think for a moment that you could fool me with your silly magic images? That I wouldn't know what really happened? I never thought you were stupid."

Circe lowered her gaze. She should have expected that.

The Rider King's frown turned to a malevolent smile. "Yet, you came here of your own free will even though you were advised not to by Murtagh and imprisoned by the Varden in an attempt to keep you in Surda. Tell me, my dear, why have you really come back? Tell me or I will pry it from your mind."

Circe glared at him. "You want the truth?" she asked. "Fine. I'll give you the truth. I came here to destroy both of my enemies. I despise the Varden nearly as much as I despise you. Nasuada plans to attack Urû'baen. They should arrive, at the earliest, tomorrow night. Murtagh, Eragon, Roran and the dragons are with them, as well as the Elves, Dwarves and Urgals."

Galbatorix grinned in satisfaction. "See? I knew you could be helpful. I will make sure that my best men are waiting on the plains for them. They will not survive this." He paused, breathing down her neck. "Now, please tell me, how do you plan to destroy me?"

Circe took another step away from him. "I'm going to kill you," she stated gravely. "You're going to join those you imprisoned in the Vault of Souls."

Galbatorix's laugh sent shivers down Circe's spine. Finally, he stopped and addressed her. "You are more foolish than I thought, my dear. You know that I've taken your father's power and you know that I've opened the Vault of Souls. How can you possibly hope to defeat me?"

Despite the fact that she asked herself the same question, Circe's gaze did not falter. "I'm going to kill you or die trying," she repeated. "No matter what you think of yourself, you are evil and despicable. You are manipulating and traitorous. You are a danger to everyone around you and you will die."

Galbatorix laughed again and stepped towards her again, holding her quivering form in place with his magic. "You may be strong," he whispered dangerously. "But you will never be a match for me. Nobody in Alagaësia is a match for me now that I have the power of the Kylrians and the power of the Vault of Souls. The new Riders are no match for me. Your pathetic hopes for a future without me will never come true. I know your thoughts. I know your weaknesses. I've killed your kind before." He paused and smiled. "But don't worry. I shall tell Murtagh what has become of you. He will know all about how you begged me to end your pathetic existence, and, though it pained me to dispose of such a pretty thing, I was kind enough to oblige. Ah yes, I will tell him right before I kill him."

He paused, admiring the terrified expression on her face and seemingly pondering a new thought. "But perhaps I won't kill you, at least not permanently. I just have to stop you from interfering with my plans until the battle is over and there is no one left to challenge my rule. Then, you and I shall rule this land together. What say you to that?"

Circe gasped for air, temporarily free from Galbatorix's spell. "I will not cooperate," she vowed.

Galbatorix laughed, resuming control of her body so she could no longer speak or move. "Don't worry. In time you shall find me quite difficult to resist."

* * *

_Darkness covers everything. He cannot see a thing. He does not know where he is or why he is there. An incredible sense of foreboding comes over him as he stares out into the darkness, searching for something unknown. As he reaches out with his mind, he feels his connections to his friends suddenly cut off. He is terrified._

_Suddenly, there is a hoarse birdcall. He turns his head frantically, trying to find the source of the noise. A white shape whizzes past his face and he can hear the call distinctly now._

_"Wyrda! Wyrda!"_

_He is puzzled by this call, but knows that 'wyrda' is the Elven word for 'fate'. What could that possibly mean now, in this situation._

_Suddenly, the darkness fades to the plains just outside the city of Urû'baen, Galbatorix's city. An epic battle is in progress. Men in the scarlet tunics and black armor of Galbatorix are locked in combat with soldiers of the Varden, Elves, Dwarves and Urgals. He looks to the sky, expecting to see four dragons locked in combat high above, but there is nothing there except dark storm clouds. Thunder roars ominously as the Empire's soldiers rout the warriors of the Varden._

_Then he looks to the wall of the city where a gigantic black dragon has just appeared. As he tries to see the two figures riding the beast, he vision adjusts so he can see them clearly. He gasps as he recognizes both of them, but only expects to see one of them._

_His vision changes again. Now, he is in the gilded throne room of Galbatorix's palace. There are two shadowy figures standing at the opposite end, seemingly fighting or arguing. One figure is threatening another. He manages to catch a few words of what is being said._

"_But perhaps I won't kill you, at least not permanently. I just have to stop you from interfering with my plans until the battle is over and there is no one left to challenge my rule. Then, you and I shall rule this land together. What say you to that?"_

"_I will not cooperate."_

_"Don't worry. In time you shall find me quite difficult to resist."_

_His vision begins to fade back to darkness and only one thing is visible to him: a white raven floating directly in front of him. The bird opens its mouth and begins to call:_

_"Murtagh! Murtagh! Wake up! Wake up, Murtagh!"_

It felt like he was being thrown back into reality from another realm. Murtagh groaned and opened his eyes. As his vision adjusted to the darkness, he could see that a concerned Eragon was leaning over him. "Where am I?" Murtagh moaned, temporarily forgetting what was going on.

"About a day's march from Urû'baen," Eragon answered. "I think you were having a bad dream."

"No, it was a nightmare," Murtagh corrected him. He found that he had been sweating in his sleep as he sat up and ran his fingers through his hair. Then, suddenly, he began to speak with renewed vigor and urgency. "Eragon! It was like a vision!" he exclaimed. "I saw the battle. The Varden are going to lose. Galbatorix is going to win! He's got Circe. She's in great danger. We're in great danger!"

Eragon tried to calm him down. "Murtagh! Be quiet for a moment; there are still people asleep. Now, tell me, slowly, what did you see?"

"There was… a white raven! It was screeching, 'Wyrda! Wyrda!' Then I saw the battle. Galbatorix's army is going to annihilate us. There was no sign of Thorn, Saphira, Garrow or any of us, only Galbatorix and Shruikan… and Circe. Then I was in the throne room where I saw Galbatorix threatening Circe. He's going to do something vile to her. Eragon, we have to rescue her!"

But Eragon wasn't so sure. "The white raven," he said. "That must have been Blagden; he belongs to Queen Islanzadí of the Elves. He's supposed to give warnings of the future. Your vision will not necessarily come true. We can still win."

"I don't believe that," Murtagh said. "It was too real. We've got to help her."

Eragon shook her head. "She went back of her own accord. Her fate is in her own hands now."

"You went running for Arya," Murtagh pointed out.

"I was young and stupid," Eragon scowled.

"But you don't regret going to her."

"Perhaps not," Eragon admitted. "But this is different."

"No," Murtagh said sternly. "It's not different at all."

* * *

**AN:** All right guys, I need your help on something. I would like to know which one of my plot bunnies you would like me to pursue after Era is finished. They are posted below. Please tell me in a review. 

_In The Beginning: How Galbatorix fell to the dark side and betrayed the Varden. Everything you ever wanted to know about the Fall._

_My Heart Will Go On : During his stay with the Varden in Farthen Dûr, Murtagh falls for one of Ajihad's healers, but can their relationship endure the trials that Galbatorix puts it through?_

_Untitled (EragonxStarWars): During their arial battle at the Burning Plains, Ergaon, Murtagh, Thorn & Saphira are mysteriously transported to the galaxy far, far away during a very pivotal point in its history._

Now for my advertising point. Recently, I have created a forum roleplay of Alagaësia in need of members. Please check it out at least. It won't let me post the link here, so you'll have to go through my profile. Thanks in advance.


	20. Chapter 20: Eve of Battle

Seven reviews last chapter. We're doing good.

Dragon Rider of Alagaësia: Murtagh is def. cooler than Eragon because Eragon is def. a baby. Thanks for the hilarious review.

Emberseve: So glad you liked it. Murtagh is really adorable, isn't he?

fAteD lOvE: EragonArya fluff? I'll see what I can do.

Voyfan7: Uh huh. You caught on quickly. Nasuada's not stupid and… well.. this chappie explains that.

Miyumi S-H: Glad you like it. Let Circe die? I don't know about that. She might still be important.

DeadlyCreative: Ecstatic that you like it. This soon enough for you? Lol.

Chaseh: we'll see. Second A/n discusses future stories.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty: Eve of Battle**

"Do you really think she could have escaped if I hadn't wished it?" Nasuada's eyebrows rose quizzically as she answered Eragon's suspicions about Murtagh's dream. Did he think she was stupid enough to allow Circe to escape and possibly destroy the Varden in the process? Probably not. He was just concerned.

"What do you mean? Nasuada, she's gone back to Urû'baen," Eragon insisted.

"I know," Nasuada responded calmly.

Eragon's mouth formed a small 'o' as he realized what was going on. "Then you did wish for her to escape?"

Nasuada nodded. "I know that no mage in Du Vrangr Gata can contain a shape shifter, let alone a Kylrian. I've decided to use it to my advantage. Circe has escape and flown back to Galbatorix. I have no doubt in my mind that she will tell Galbatorix about our plans to attack Urû'baen."

"But how can that work to our advantage?" Eragon asked, still not quite understanding. "Galbatorix will be prepared for out attack."

"Circe will tell him that we will arrive tonight," Nasuada stated. "And if we keep going at this speed, we will. We're going to wait an entire day at this camp and show up at Urû'baen tomorrow night. Use your mind, Eragon. The heat has returned and those soldiers will be waiting a day in full plate armor."

"Heat stroke," he whispered in realization. "Nasuada, that's brilliant, but it may not be enough to tip the odds in our favor."

"Angela has agreed to poison them again. She's go ahead of us with Solembum," Nasuada told him. "By the time the armies arrive, the poison should have taken effect." She paused before continuing. "Another thing," she said. "We're going to attack Urû'baen from all sides. Arya and Islanzadí will lead the elves from the north. The Dwarves attack from the west led by Orik and the Urgals hit the eastern wall led by Nar Garzhvog. Orrin and I will lead the men to the southern wall. They are the largest force and the bulk of Galbatorix's army will be waiting in the south."

"What about Saphira and me?" Eragon asked. "Where will we be?"

"Wherever Galbatorix is," Nasuada answered solemnly. "We will need all three of our Rider to defeat him."

"You trust Murtagh in battle?" Eragon inquired in surprise.

Nasuada nodded gravely. "I have no choice. Like it or not, Murtagh is more powerful than you or Roran. We're going to need him."

"If you're talking about power, Circe would be good right now," Eragon said suddenly, surprising even himself.

Nasuada glared at him. "She's doing her part," she responded coldly.

Instead of answering, Eragon looked to do the entrance flap of the tent. He knew that Arya, Orik and Nar Garzhvog were standing right aside waiting to speak with Nasuada. He looked at Nasuada again. "I believe you have others waiting to see you. I don't know why I said that, but it remains the truth," he told her. When she didn't respond, he bowed to his liege lord and exited the tent, seeing that he was right about who was waiting outside.

Arya and Orik smiled at him and Eragon smiled back. _I'll be waiting for you out here, _he said as he touched Arya's mind, not really wanting the others to here what he had to say to her. She nodded quickly in agreement before going in to see Nasuada with Orik and Garzhvog.

While he waited for Arya, Eragon sat down on the soft grass outside Nasuada's tent. It was early morning and the sun had just risen above the horizon, warming their camp with its golden rays. The morning dew was still wet upon the grass, but Eragon didn't mind. Thoughts of the upcoming battle were swimming through his head. Seeking comfort and reassurance, he reached out to Saphira. _What if we don't succeed, Saphira? _he wondered. _What if Galbatorix wins?_

Saphira's reply was not immediate. _We _must_ succeed, Eragon. We have no other choice._

_I'm not as strong as Galbatorix. Nobody is._

_Time will not wait until you are stronger, if such a thing can be achieved. Our time is now, Eragon. We can only hope that our power will be sufficient._

Hearing Saphira's words, Eragon's gaze fell on Mor'ranr, the sword that Solembum had predicted he would have. _There is another part to Solembum's prophecy,_ he told Saphira. _When all seems lost and your power is insufficient, go to the Rock of Kuthian and speak your name to open the Vault of Souls. Perhaps that will make me strong enough to fight Galbatorix._

Again, Saphira did not reply instantly. _We can only hope so. _Her voice was sad, almost lamenting. _But we do not know where the Rock of Kuthian is._

_We didn't know that those Elves were the roots of the Menoa tree either, _Eragon told her.

Saphira was in agreement. _Then all will be revealed when we need it._

There was a pause and then Eragon spoke again. _Saphira_, he asked, _where are you?_

_With Thorn, _came her simple reply.

Eragon smiled. _There may be more dragons in Alagaësia yet._

Saphira snorted. _I don't know where you get your delusions._

Eragon laughed as Saphira temporarily cut of their mind link. He was truly happy for Saphira. After Glaedr rejected her, he feared that she would never find anyone to mate with. His thoughts were disrupted when Orik, Garzhvog and Arya came out of Nasuada's tent. With a smile to Arya, he sprung to his feet. Orik and Garzhvog nodded to him in acknowledgment before continuing on their way and leaving Eragon and Arya alone.

"Arya," Eragon whispered as his arms wrapped around his Elven love in a loving embrace.

Arya hugged him back. "Eragon," she said. As the two released each other, she spoke again. "Nasuada has told you her plans, then?" she asked. "You know that Circe was allowed to escape?"

Eragon nodded. "I don't want to talk about Circe or the war," he whispered in her ear as he tried to ensnare her lips in a kiss.

"Eragon," Arya said, almost scolding him as she pulled away. "Not here. Not now."

"Yes here. Yes now," Eragon breathed, his face mere centimeters from hers. "The truth is we're going to war and I have to fight Galbatorix. Arya, there are strong chances that I won't return."

"Don't say that," Arya pleaded.

"I have to," whispered Eragon. "I love you and I can't bear the thought of not being with you. Galbatorix is strong and he can kill me with one word if he wanted to. This may be our last day together." He placed a small kiss on her lips.

Arya drew away quickly. "Not now," she said again.

Eragon didn't hear her. "Come," he said, taking her hand and attempting to guide her, "Let's go to my tent."

Arya pulled her hand away. "Eragon!" she said firmly. "Aren't you listening to me?"

Eragon looked shocked. "What's wrong? I thought we'd gotten over this."

"We have," Arya told him, her voice softening. "It's not a good time for this. Eragon, we're going to war."

"We still have one more day before we complete the march to Urû'baen," he told her. "Arya, I want to be with you. This may be our last chance."

"The Men have one more day," Arya whispered. "The Dwarves and the Urgals are leaving now," she paused before going on to say sadly, "So are the Elves." Eragon looked at her in disbelief. "By tomorrow night we have to be on the other side of Urû'baen. Islanzadí's waiting for me."

Eragon stared at her in disbelief for a moment before grabbing her and kissing her fiercely. To his pleasure, Arya kissed him back for a time before drawing away. "I love you," she whispered sincerely as she began to walk away. "Be on the top of your game when you meet Galbatorix. I'll die without you."

Eragon watched her go with a wistful gleam in his eyes. "I love you too," was all he could manage to say to her. His heart ached more than it had at the Ageatí Blödhren.

* * *

Later that night, Eragon sat in his tent with Mor'ranr and Wyrda laid out on the floor in front of him. The two swords were physically identical, but Eragon could tell them apart by the amount of Elven magic in them. He glared at Wyrda like it carried an infectious disease. The only reason he kept it was because it was his only blade. Now, he no longer had a reason to keep the sword Galbatorix had forged for him. Mor'ranr, on the other hand, was not only of better quality but was given to him by the Elves and formerly belonged to Brom.

_Come outside, little one_, came Saphira's voice inside his head.

He sighed, taking Mor'ranr and pushing Wyrda aside. _I'm coming, Saphira. _He smiled. He had barely gotten to see Saphira recently. She'd been too busy with Thorn.

Nothing could have prepared Eragon for what Saphira wanted to show him. On the ground at Saphira's feet illuminated by the light of torches, was a deep purple dragon egg.

_What… is _that he demanded in shock. He knew that Saphira had been spending a lot of time with Thorn, but he didn't know that they were _mating_.

Saphira stared at the egg on the ground, refusing to meet Eragon's eyes. _What is what?_

_That!_ Eragon shouted. _You know what I'm talking about. That polished purple stone there that looks exactly like your egg when I first found it._

_Oh,_ said Saphira. _That. That would be my dragon egg._

_And Thorn's the father?_

_Yes._

_I thought you didn't like him, _Eragon teased. Saphira glared at him. Eragon laughed, amused with her pride. _Sorry, sorry,_ he said quickly. _But you could have told me._

_I'm surprised you needed to be told. A Rider should always know what his dragon is doing and vice versa._

Eragon ignored that comment. _Does Murtagh know?_

_Thorn was supposed to tell him._

Eragon looked up as a twig was snapped in the distance. He could see someone silhouetted against the darkness coming toward them. Thorn could be seen in the sky behind him. "Murtagh," he whispered.

"Let me see it!" Murtagh demanded as he came closer, pushing Eragon out of the way and picking up the egg from the ground. Its purple shell sparkled radiantly against the soft glow of the torchlight. He looked from Eragon to Saphira excitedly as Thorn landed behind him. "Do you know what this means, my brother?" he asked. "This is one more weapon that we have against Galbatorix."

Saphira growled. _My child is no weapon of yours._

_Our child, _Thorn corrected her.

Eragon put his hand on Saphira to try and comfort her. "Murtagh, it hasn't even hatched yet."

Murtagh glared at them. "It _will_ be a weapon against Galbatorix. It has to hatch and quickly," he said, turning to go and walk throughout the camp to find the new Dragon Rider.

Thorn moved to block his path. _No. Not now._

_She will die in the battle if she is hatched now,_ Saphira snarled.

Eragon and Murtagh both stopped dead and looked to Saphira. "She?" Eragon asked. Saphira nodded. "Another female dragon," Eragon whispered in awe.

Murtagh's eyes narrowed in determination as he looked down at the egg in his hands. "Galbatorix must not know of its existence," he declared.

Eragon nodded. "We should agree to tell no one," he suggested as voices could be heard in the distance. He turned his head to see who was approaching and could make out two figures against the torchlight. With his Elvish vision he could see that it was Nasuada and one of her servants. He turned to Murtagh. "She should know," he whispered.

Murtagh shook his head frantically as they came closer. "No," he whispered back. "We shouldn't get them excited." But Eragon wasn't going to listen. As Nasuada and the servant came closer, he waved his arms and beckoned them over.

"What's this all about Shadeslayer?" Nasuada asked when they were within speaking distance. "You should be getting ready for-," Eragon reached over and snatched the purple egg from Murtagh, holding out to Nasuada, and she stopped dead, staring at the egg in disbelief. Her eyes darted from Thorn to Saphira and back to Eragon and Murtagh.

Eragon grinned. "The next generation of dragons is being born."

Nasuada nodded. "That may be so, but we still have a battle to win tomorrow," she told him. "Put that somewhere safe and get to bed. You're going to need all of your energy tomorrow, both of you," she added with a glance at Murtagh. Eragon nodded and Nasuada left with her servant.

"Give it to me," Murtagh said quickly, holding his hand out for the egg with a greedy look in his eyes. "I'll keep it safe."

Saphira growled and let out a puff of smoke. _You shall do no such thing._

Eragon nodded and held the egg close to his chest in a protective manner. "I agree with Saphira," he said. "I'll keep the egg tonight."

All right guys, I still need your help on something. The majority of you guys voted for Darkness Approaches, previously named In the Beginning. I was planning on keeping that one until after Empire comes out, hoping that Paolini will give me a little bit more information. And, two new plots have joined the crew. Your input is so important to me. Please tell me what you would like me to do.

_Darkness Approaches__: How Galbatorix fell to the dark side and betrayed the Varden. Everything you ever wanted to know about the Fall._

_My Heart Will Go On__ : During his stay with the Varden in Farthen Dûr, Murtagh falls for one of Ajihad's healers, but can their relationship endure the trials that Galbatorix puts it through?_

_Equilibrium__ (EragonStarWars): During their aerial battle at the Burning Plains, Eragon, Murtagh, Thorn & Saphira are mysteriously transported to the galaxy far, far away during a very pivotal point in its history._

_Armageddon_ (Takes places right after Era) _Galbatorix has been defeated, but something so evil cannot be destroyed so easily. Our heroes must now deal with problems of apocalyptic proportions._

_Prisoner__: Katrina of Carvahall has been kidnapped, captured and stolen from her beloved fiancé, but who's to say that Fate doesn't have another fate for her? Her light in the darkness is a mysterious Red Rider she meets in Urû'baen. KatrinaMurtagh _


	21. Chapter 21: The Great Battle of Our Time

Ten reviews! You guys are amazing.

Dragon Rider of Alagaësia: Another good review. Glad you like it.

RandomReviewer: Yup. Arya has a history of doing that.

Canadien-Girl14: Glad you loved it so much. Murtagh's my fav character too.

Miyumi S-H: Glad you like it.

HK-50: I was going to send Eragon to the time of the OT, but then realized that he and Saphira wouldn't be able to take part in a lot of events, such as the space battles. It'll probably during the Clone Wars, think Ep 2-3 time frame.

FAteD lOvE: Yeah, their parting is such sweet sorrow… wow, I just quoted Shakespeare.

Voyfan7: next Rider? Yup, everyone's going to have to wait on that one.

Crystallblade Warrior: I'm amazed at how much you wanted more. Lol.

13BlacKAnGELs: Yup, a new dragon egg. Thanks a bundle for that Murtagh plushie. I love him!

DeadlyCreative: Galbatorix is going to get it, but having Circe hatch it? I don't know…..

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-One: The Great Battle of Our Time**

The sun refused to rise the next morning.

The Varden woke at dawn to find their camp shrouded in an eerie darkness. Men drifted out of their tents to stare dumbfounded at the sky. Torches were relit from the night before and the leaders of those still encamped a day's march from Urû'baen made their way to Lady Nasuada's tent to discuss the sun's strange behavior.

"It's an omen," Angela stated solemnly. "A bad omen."

"If it is," asked Nasuada. "Then what would you have us do? We've put too much work into this attack to call it off now. The Elves, Dwarves and Urgals would all be walking right to their deaths without us and the Riders."

Angela frowned stubbornly. "What's your opinion, Shadeslayer?" she demanded.

Eragon looked to the floor, not wanting to insult Angela or Nasuada. Finally, he sighed. "Things don't look good," he said.

"Aha!" exclaimed Angela. "I told you so!"

"But," Eragon continued, ignoring her outburst. "Nasuada is right. We can't call off the attack now. We must leave at once or risk loosing our one chance to defeat Galbatorix."

Nasuada smiled and looked to Trianna. "See to it that your magicians are ready to leave. Get everything packed away and ready to go," she ordered. Trianna bowed and left the tent. Nasuada turned to Orrin, Eragon, Roran and Murtagh. "Make preparations for departure. We must leave as soon as possible."

* * *

_We're going to be in a _battle Roran's young dragon Garrow asked in amazement. The green creature was now as big as Saphira was when she and Eragon fought in the Battle of Farthen Dûr, but he was still a hatchling at heart. 

Roran smiled at the dragon. _Yes_, he answered. _And you had best be on your best behavior. Remember everything Saphira and Thorn taught you or you'll be fried by Shruikan._

Garrow shrunk back at the mention of Shruikan's name. _Bad black dragon_, he muttered. _Bad black dragon scares me._

Roran couldn't help but laugh at the little thing. _I know that bad black dragon scares you, _he told him. _But today, we're going to scare bad black dragon._

Garrow's eyes widened in amazement. _Really?_

Roran nodded, suppressing another urge to laugh at Garrow. _Yes, really. Now, look, here comes my wife._

Katrina strode through the camp towards Roran and Garrow. Her expression was grave and her copper hair was unpinned and swirling in the wind. She threw her arms around Roran once he was in reach and pressed her face into his chest. Roran could feel her shaking and crying.

"Katrina, what's wrong?" Roran asked once she released him. "Did someone hurt you?"

"The men," Katrina whispered. "They were saying horrible things."

"What kinds of things, Katrina?"

"Roran, you never told me you'd be fighting Galbatorix!" she cried.

Roran sighed. "Katrina…"

"Roran, he'll kill you!"

Roran grabbed her roughly by her shoulders and forced her to look up at him. "Katrina, listen to me," he said sternly. "Galbatorix is not going to kill me. _I'm_ going to kill him, with the help of Eragon and Murtagh. We're going to put an end to this bloody war. Now go with Nasuada and her guard. You'll be safe there."

Katrina shook her head. "No," she whispered. "I want to fight with you."

Roran leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. "I'm sorry," he whispered back. "But I love you too much to let you fight and risk loosing you. Katrina, I'd die without you."

"And I'll take Otho to my chest if you're killed," she vowed, slowly turning and making her way to Nasuada and the guard, where Roran wanted her to go.

* * *

Later that evening, Eragon sat on Saphira's back in his chain mail with Mor'ranr and his crossbow at hand. Saphira, clad in her Dwarven armor, nearly blended in with the dark sky. Realizing this, Eragon shuddered to think about fighting Shruikan against the night sky. He was likely to be hit without even seeing them. Shivering, he quickly shook the thought from his mind. 

_Here we are, Saphira_, he said dramatically as the city of Urû'baen came into view over the horizon. _The great battle of our time has arrived._

_I can only hope that we're ready,_ Saphira answered. _Is my daughter safe? Is she all right?_

Eragon nodded, eyes falling on the small saddlebag that held the violet dragon egg of Saphira and Thorn's child. It wasn't the safest place, he knew that, but it would have to do under the circumstances. _She's fine. Stop worrying._

_Stop worrying?_ Saphira asked incredulously. _My unhatched child is being brought into battle. What am I supposed to do?_

Eragon chuckled. _I bet Thorn doesn't worry this much_, he teased. Saphira fell silent.

Galbatorix's army was assembled and waiting for them, just like they'd thought it would be. At the sign of the three dragons and the Varden soldiers, the ranks stiffened nervously. The battle had finally come. Saphira flew low towards Nasuada, who was trying to call them over.

"Tell Arya that we're ready. She and Islanzadí may start moving their troops into the city," Nasuada said. "I've just sent Roran and Murtagh to alert the Dwarves and Urgals," she paused for moment. "And, Eragon, be careful. As soon as Galbatorix appears, the three of you must fight him before he can destroy too much of the army."

"Don't worry, Nasuada," Eragon assured her as Saphira rose into the sky again. "I'll do my best." _Arya?_

_Yes, Eragon?_

_Nasuada says you and Islanzadí can start moving into the city_, he told her.

_All right,_ was Arya's solemn reply. _And so it begins…_ were her last words before she closed her mind link to him. Eragon frowned. No 'I love you'?

He shook his head, returning his mind to the battle at hand. The Imperial archers had started shooting arrows at him and Saphira. He grinned at the simplicity of the fight so far. "Brisingr!" he shouted confidently and watched with satisfaction as the arrows burst into flame. He looked down. The Varden had not yet broken enemy lines.

Saphira flew in low over the enemy ranks, causing a cry of fear from the soldiers. A jet of flame from her mouth incinerated the nearest group of them. The others broke ranks in despair. Saphira smiled. _That trick never gets old._

Eragon looked back over at Nasuada. Finally, she and Orrin were leading the men in a dash at the enemy. Many of the soldiers, distracted by Saphira, paid no mind to the approaching soldiers and lost their heads because of it.

Saphira rose into the sky once again, only to fall back down in a vertical dive and grab several soldiers with her claws. Eragon heard their anguished screams abruptly stop as Saphira drove their heads together and sent them plummeting to the ground. Seeing her coming in for another round, the soldiers scattered to try and protect themselves. _No matter_, remarked Saphira, unleashing another jet of flame that engulfed anyone nearby.

Eragon's mind itched as Saphira began to climb into the dark sky once again. Murtagh was trying to touch his mind. Hastily, Eragon let him in, eager for whatever news his brother had.

_He is here._

Eragon knew exactly what Murtagh meant.

Panicked, he shared this information with Saphira and Roran and looked to the sky in anticipation. A dark, nearly invisible, black bat-like shape moved stealthily on Urû'baen's southern wall. Sharpening his eyesight with Saphira's help, he could see that it was just as they had feared. Galbatorix and Shruikan had come to battle.

Keeping his eyes fixed on Galbatorix, Eragon raised his strung bow, hoping to catch the despicable king off his guard. Taking his aim, the Blue Rider gasped as he saw Galbatorix slowly turn his head to look at him and Saphira. His black gaze seemed to bore into his eyes and a sharp chill shot down his spine. As the Rider King smiled slyly at him, Eragon felt his bow break apart in his hands.

Shocked, he looked down at the Elven bow, broken in his hands. Frustrated he threw the bow in the air, letting it fall down to the battle below. Broken, it was of no more use to him and would only hinder him. He looked back to the wall; Galbatorix had disappeared. A shiver of fear ran down his spine as he looked up to the dark sky. Now, Eragon could see Shruikan, seemingly coming out of nowhere. The darkness had veiled him.

As Shruikan neared Eragon, he felt Saphira stiffen beneath him. _Saphira?_ he asked tentatively. There was no reply. _SAPHIRA!_ Eragon shouted. _SAPHIRA MOVE! _Once Shruikan was nearly on top of them, Saphira seemed to come back to life. Just as the black dragon released a deadly stream of flame, she darted out of the way.

_I'm sorry,_ Saphira told him. _I couldn't move. Galbatorix-_

Her words were cut short by a shrill cry of pain. Cutting out of the dive early, Shruikan had turned in time to ensnare the end of Saphira's tail with her dagger-like teeth. Eragon closed his eyes in pain as he felt Saphira's emotions as his own. As she howled in agony, he slowly turned in the saddle to face Galbatorix.

"Let her go," he commanded sternly.

Galbatorix laughed, shrill, cold, disturbing laugh, and Eragon felt a prying force trying to gain access to his mind. He nearly panicked, realizing that it was Galbatorix's doing. _Brick wall, brick wall, brick wall_, he tried to think over and over again. But the king's power was overwhelming. He wouldn't be able to keep him out for much longer. He couldn't let Galbatorix into his mind. That would spell certain death.

Murtagh, seeing his brother's plight, came up behind Galbatorix on Thorn. The red dragon unleashed a powerful torrent of flame at the Rider King. Galbatorix, not wishing to be fried, relinquished his assault on Eragon's mind and Shruikan spun around to face Thorn, releasing Saphira. Eragon let out a sigh of relief and Saphira flew up high into the sky to escape the menace and examine her wound.

Without speaking the words in the ancient language, Galbatorix effortlessly stopped Thorn's fiery attack with magic. The two dragons circled each other slowly as their Riders regarded each other. Murtagh glared at Galbatorix with enough hatred as he could muster. "What have you done with her?" the Red Rider growled.

Galbatorix laughed again, sending chills down Murtagh's spine. "Don't worry. I promised her that I would tell you," he chuckled. "Yes, tell you and then kill you." When Murtagh's hardened expression did not falter, Galbatorix continued, "She came before me, begging for death. And, I, the merciful lord, merely granted her wish."

"You lie!" Murtagh spat. "I know she's alive."

Galbatorix narrowed his eyes. "It's time I fulfilled my promise," he spat back as Shruikan lunged forward at Thorn. The red dragon yelped in surprise, barely missing Shruikan's razor sharp teeth.

Murtagh drew Zar'roc and turned Thorn to face Galbatorix. "Today you die!" he vowed.

Galbatorix laughed and drew his own sword. Shruikan lunged forward at Thorn again, and the red dragon evaded the attack by climbing a few yards into the air. Shruikan growled and jolted upward, ensnaring Thorn's right wing in his mouth and puncturing the membrane with his mammoth teeth.

Thorn howled in agony and distress and Murtagh sought a way to end their suffering. He took Zar'roc and, leaning over Thorn's back, drove its crimson blade into Shruikan's neck. His enemies howled in anger and drew back. Murtagh quickly examined Thorn's wounds; his wing membrane was severed and torn in five places.

_I'll be okay,_ Thorn tried to assure Murtagh. _Forget about it._

Murtagh cursed. _Nonsense, Thorn. You can barely fly._

_Look out!_

Taking advantage of their momentary distraction, Galbatorix had drove Shruikan up toward them again. Murtagh slashed futilely at Shruikan as he saw Galbatorix utter inaudible words in the ancient language. Deep gashes opened in Thorn's neck and thick blood slowly flowed from the wounds. Murtagh cried out in agony and despair as he felt Thorn's life begin to fade. Tears in his eyes, he looked up at Galbatorix. "I will kill you for this," he vowed.

This time, Galbatorix's maniacal laugh was cut short. Saphira and Eragon had returned with Roran and Garrow. Together, the two dragons rammed straight into Shruikan's side, sending the beast flipping downward.

"Go!" Eragon called to Murtagh.

"Tend to your dragon!" shouted Roran.

Murtagh hastily obeyed.

It didn't take long for Shruikan to recover from Saphira and Garrow's blow. Galbatorix was rapidly approaching. He extended his right hand and silently sent Garrow tumbling backward. At the same time, Shruikan barreled into Saphira.

Shruikan's weight sent Saphira flipping chaotically away from him. Eragon watched in horror as the saddlebag holding the new dragon egg forced itself open and the egg came falling out. Galbatorix saw it too. In an instant, he had Shruikan in a mad dive after it.

* * *

So, as of right now, I'm going to do Darkness Approaches first, followed by Armageddon. Don't worry though; the others will still be done. 

In the meantime, here's video trailer for Darkness Approaches that I made. Tell me what you think.

http://www. youtube. com/ watch?v KJv1kcsYP5I

You'll have to take the spaces out of the URL. It won't let me post it here without them.


	22. Chapter 22: The Rock of Kuthian

Only five reviews? Last time I had twice as many. Ah, I'm just kidding. You guys are awesome. 

FAteD lOvE: Yup, suspense is a writer's best friend. 

Canadien-Girl14: You'll just have to wait and see…

Crystalblade Warrior: Here's some more!

Deadly Creative: Thanks!

Voyfan7: It does my heart good to know that my suspense was that effective. Eragon, what are we going to do with him? He really is quite stupid.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Two: The Rock of Kuthian**

_SAPHIRA MOVE!_

But she didn't need Eragon's urgings. The very minute she knew her egg was in danger, Saphira folded her wings and dove down after Shruikan. _YOU STUPID BOY!_ she shouted furiously at Eragon. _HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME? YOU STUPID HUMAN!_

Shruikan howled in dismay as Saphira's jaw closed on his tail, but Galbatorix only commanded him to dive faster, for the dragon egg was nearly within their reach. Saphira snarled, knowing that she could not overtake Shruikan. She released his tail and attempted to climb onto the back of the massive beast. She extended her armored neck and unleashed a jet of fire on Galbatorix.

Galbatorix merely laughed and let the fire flow over him, but the evil King emerged unharmed from the attack. A swift word in the ancient language sent her flying off Shruikan's back and spiraling away from her lost child.

Eragon howled in despair as he saw Galbatorix collect the lavender stone in his arms. Shruikan extended his wings to avoid hitting the ground and raced back to Galbatorix's fortress inside the walls of Urû'baen.

_RORAN!_ Eragon called through their mind link. _Roran! Galbatorix has stolen the egg. I need you at the palace in Urû'baen as soon as possible._

_I'll be there_, Roran replied.

_Saphira?_ Eragon asked her timidly, feeling horrible about losing the egg. He just hoped Saphira wouldn't bit his head off.

_You really are amazing. Do you know that?_ she snapped, racing after Shruikan. _Only you could manage to lose something so valuable to such a despicable villain!_

_Would it help if I said I was sorry?_

_No,_ Saphira told him furiously. _It would help if you got my child back!_

Eragon was silent until they reached Galbatorix palace. Shruikan circled the building, waiting for them. _Galbatorix has gone inside_, he told Saphira as Shruikan came after them. Without saying a word, Saphira landed in the courtyard just long enough for Eragon to dismount before taking off after Shruikan in a deadly rage. _I really am sorry, Saphira._

_I know you are,_ came her angry reply. _But if you can't get that egg back then I may just tear this whole place apart looking for it. _Despite their grim situation, Eragon couldn't help but smile at her determination.

Within a minute, Roran dismounted from Garrow and the green dragon went to join Saphira. Roran glared at him. "Only you could have lost that egg," he snapped.

Eragon sighed. "So I've heard," he said, drawing Mor'ranr. "Come on, we have a world to save." Stoically, Roran drew Otho and followed Eragon into the darkness of Urû'baen's castle.

Inside, the halls were empty. Everyone had gone out to meet the Varden. It seemed that even the maids had gone. The echo of their footsteps flooded Eragon's ears as they traveled towards the throne room, hoping to find Galbatorix there. Wherever he was, he would have the egg with him and confrontation was unavoidable now. They could not allow Galbatorix to keep the egg.

Suddenly, another pair of footsteps was heard in a corridor ahead of them. Eragon and Roran stood still, waiting to see who was coming and whether or not they were a threat.

_Does all seem lost?_

A strangely familiar voice echoed in Eragon's mind. It was wise, but had an air of clever trickery about it too.

_Solembum?_ Eragon asked.

The werecat made its way out of the shadows of Galbatorix's palace and simply repeated its question. _Does all seem lost?_

Eragon pondered his question for a moment. _Yes,_ he answered grimly. _Galbatorix has the egg and Roran and I must face him alone. Murtagh's dragon is dying. To win this battle, all Galbatorix has to do is kill us._

_Then what must you do when all seems lost?_

"When all seems lost and your power is insufficient, go to the Rock of Kuthian and speak your name to open the Vault of Souls!" Eragon said out loud with excitement. "Roran, we have to go to the Vault of Souls."

"Great," Roran said sarcastically. "And that is…?"

Eragon glanced down at Solembum. "I'm not exactly sure."

_All will be made clear in time._

"But where is the Rock of Kuthian?"

Roran was utterly confused. "Are you talking to that cat?"

Eragon nodded, hastily shrugging off Roran's question. "Where is the Rock of Kuthian?" he repeated, more urgently.

_It is… here. _

_Can you take us there?_

Solembum snorted. _I cannot do everything for you. But this I will tell you: it lurks far beneath the surface of this castle. Follow your feelings. They will lead you there for many you love know the way._ With those words, the werecat disappeared into the shadows from which it came.

"So what did the cat say?" Roran scoffed.

Eragon glared at him. "Solembum's a werecat. He speaks in wisdom and prophecy and is not to be made fun of."

"So what did he say?" Roran asked again.

Eragon quickly relayed Solembum's words to him and asked, "Do _you_ know where the Rock of Kuthian is?"

Roran shook his head. "If this… werecat… speaks in prophecy, then I doubt it's that simple. Most likely it involves those you cannot contact through normal means. If it leads to the Vault of Souls, then Solembum probably wants you to think of the deceased." He paused for a moment and asked, "What _is_ the Vault of Souls?"

Eragon shrugged. "Probably exactly what it sounds like: a large room, or vault, where Galbatorix keeps souls that make him stronger. And if that's the case, you're probably right."

"Right," Roran said. "So who could be stuck there that you love? Most likely they were killed by servants of the King."

"Brom," Eragon said immediately.

"How about Garrow?" Roran asked, surprised that Eragon put the storyteller ahead of the man who raised him.

"Right," Eragon said hastily. "But how would I get them to tell me the way?"

_Stupid child,_ Solembum's voice came back into his mind. _How is it that you speak with me? Those in the Vault of Souls can be reached through the same means if you have the strength and power._

_I thought you were done helping me? _Eragon asked with a grin.

_Sometimes your stupidity is too much for me to bear and I need to intervene to preserve my sanity._

Eragon looked at Roran, who had been staring at him strangely when Eragon fell silent and stared down the hall. "You're talking to that cat again aren't you?" he asked.

Eragon nodded, told Roran what he had learned and proceeded to stretch out with his mind for any trace of Brom or Garrow. It was a few minutes before he found a small, distant light. Excited, he surged forward with his magic only to he thrown backward by some kind of barrier. Confused, the Rider tried again with the same fruitless result. Once more, he gathered his strength and assaulted the wall. This time he could see clearly that it was a glass wall of some sort and on the other side, quite clearly, he could see Brom. Newly motivated, he threw his magic at the wall, but all that happened was a small crack.

Significantly weakened, Eragon withdrew from the wall and opened his eyes to face Roran. "Well?" the Green Rider asked curiously.

"I've found Brom," Eragon explained, breathing deeply from exertion. Any energy stored in the belt of Beloth the Wise or in the gem in Mor'ranr's hilt was gone. "But I can't reach him. It takes an enormous amount of strength. I can't do it on my own."

Roran thought for a moment. "I'll help you," he said after a moment.

"What?"

"You said Oromis taught you how to draw on another's strength," he said. "Take mine."

"But you need it," Eragon insisted.

Roran sighed. "It is not my destiny to kill the King," he explained. "It is yours. My destiny is elsewhere; I don't even know where yet. Take my strength. You need it more than I do. If you can't kill Galbatorix, the world will never be safe for me and Katrina."

Eragon sighed in submission after a moment. "Fine," he agreed, "I'll take your energy. But don't let me drain it all from you. I won't let you die."

Eragon closed his eyes again and searched for the wall. He found it quickly; Brom was still staring back at him on the other side. Drawing on much of Roran's strength, he widened the crack he had made earlier and finally the wall shattered, giving him access to Brom's mind.

_Show me the way to the Rock of Kuthian._

Brom merely smiled at him and sent him a rush of images. Eragon was vaguely reminded of when Arya had shown him the way to the Varden. There was a staircase a little to their left. They had to take it as far down as it would go. That led them to another corridor, which ended in a stone door without a handle, knob or lock. That was the Rock of Kuthian.

He withdrew from contact from Brom to find Roran dragged to his knees from Eragon's draining his energy. Eragon rushed over to him. "I knew I shouldn't have done that," he whispered.

"Never mind me; I'm all right," Roran gasped. "Did you get the information we need?"

Eragon nodded. "We have to go down a great many stairs, as far down as it'll go, and then take the corridor to the end. Have you the strength to walk?"

"Yes," Roran said, managing to stand on his wobbly legs. He sheathed Otho and looked at Eragon expectantly. "Well? What are you waiting for? Lead the way!"

Eragon was surprised that the road to the Rock of Kuthian and the Vault of Souls wasn't heavily guarded. They managed to descend all the way down the stairs without meeting another living soul. Galbatorix had been sure to get every able-bodied man armed and ready for battle. The corridor at the end of the stairs was much longer than they expected it to be, though, and that was their only hindrance. Roran's strength seemed to be slowly returning, though he was still weak.

When they finally reached the Rock of Kuthian, Eragon simply stood there, unsure of what to do next.

"Speak your name," Roran said impatiently. "Isn't that what the cat told you to do?"

"Yes," Eragon said hesitantly. "But nothing Solembum ever says is that simple."

"It's worth trying," Roran urged him.

"Fine." Eragon agreed, standing before the door and feeling very silly. "Eragon," he shouted at it. Nothing happened and he tried again, "My name is Eragon Shadeslayer."

_No, no, that won't due_, scoffed Solembum, back again.

Eragon rolled his eyes. _Safe both of us some trouble and tell me what I'm supposed to be doing._

_You of all people should know that magic uses the ancient language,_ the cat suggested before leaving the Rider's mind again.

Suddenly enlightened, Eragon turned to Roran. "I have to use my real name," he declared. "The one in the ancient language."

"Great," said Roran sarcastically. "Except for the fact that you don't know what your real name is."

Eragon's hopeful expression quickly faded. "You're right," he sighed. "I don't know my real name, and I have no idea how I would go about figuring it out."

Roran sighed in frustration and leaned against the wall. "So then this was all in vain," he said dismally. "The Varden will fall and we will all be killed. So much for a happy ending!"

Feeling extremely guilty, Eragon said nothing and turned to face the Rock of Kuthian again, prepared to make random guessed at what his name in the ancient language could possibly be, but then he noticed something unexpected.

The doors were opening and someone stood on the other side.

* * *

And there are some commercials up for Darkness Approaches on YouTube. I can't post all the links here, so if you want to see 'em, search for Darkness Approaches or kenobiandskywalker. Any comments on them are also much appreciated. 


	23. Chapter 23: The Vault of Souls

Review replies: 

FAteD lOvE: I have to have at least one chapter where I got to make fun of Eragon and his silliness. Lol. Glad you liked it.

SidiousSith: One of your guesses is right!

Voyfan7: Ah, how I would love to see Eragon ripped to shreds by Saphira for all the stupid things he does. Thanks for reviewing.

DeadlyCreative: Well, it's not immediately, but I hope this is soon enough.

Gibgib12: Nice to know I was that effective. Thanks for the review.

After one hundred and eleven reviews, twenty-two chapters, forty-seven thousand, six hundred thirty-three words, finally we've reached Eragon's final test:

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Three: The Vault of Souls**

The doors of the Rock of Kuthian parted and revealed what Eragon and Roran believed to be the Vault of Souls. Though it had to be a stone chamber, the walls could not be seen. Standing in the midst of millions of swirling colors and unrecognizable shapes, was Galbatorix.

He smiled when he saw them and held the purple egg in his hands. "So you have come," he said to them maliciously. Seeing the stunned looks of their faces, he ran his long fingers across the surface of the egg protectively. "This is what you want, is it not?" he asked glancing down at the treasure.

"Give it back!" Eragon shouted, angrily drawing Mor'ranr. "It doesn't belong to you!"

Galbatorix laughed and held the egg aloft above his head. "If you want it, then come and take it from me," he challenged them. "Prove to me that you're worth my attention."

Roran growled furiously; his patience with the maniacal king was just about gone. He drew Otho from its sheath and charged Galbatorix with a loud cry. Eragon tried to stop him, but his cousin couldn't hear him. To him, all that existed was Galbatorix.

Galbatorix raised his hand and sent Roran flying against the wall with a dark flash of black magic, rendering the Green Rider unconscious. "Foolish child," he said with mock sorrow. "Never learned to respect his elders."

"Leave him alone!" Eragon shouted angrily. He reached out for Roran's life and gave a sigh of relief when he saw that he wasn't dead.

Galbatorix's black eyes fell on Eragon. "What did you say?" he asked with amusement. "Who are you to defy me? What makes you think you won't end up like everyone else who has dared to disobey the Rider King? Why should I not kill you where you stand?"

"Because I won't let you," Eragon shouted, though he felt terribly small and insignificant.

Galbatorix laughed again. "You truly are a foolish child. Tell me, boy, what led you to the Rock of Kuthian? Surely, you didn't learn of it on your own."

Eragon felt compelled to tell him the truth. "A werecat told me," he said. "A werecat I met in Teirm."

"Solembum," Galbatorix said in disgust. "And I suppose you've spoken with the herbalist too, Angela? She would have been of great use to me if she hadn't joined the Varden."

"She would have never joined you," Eragon growled, shaking his head.

Galbatorix chuckled. "I suppose you came here in hopes of gaining the powers you need to defeat me? Even with the power of the Souls, you are no match for me."

Eragon stood his ground. He could feel his strength growing and his reflexes sharpening. The Souls were strengthening him, and giving him the power he needed to fight Galbatorix on the same plane. "If you are so confident in your abilities, then why do you not attack? Perhaps you are not as strong as you think," Eragon suggested.

Galbatorix's face contorted in anger at the Blue Rider's words. He set the egg down on the floor and drew his ebony sword. "You are unwise to pick a fight with me, child," he snarled. "You forget that I no longer need you or your dragon. You shall pay the ultimate price for your foolishness!"

Eragon raised Mor'ranr to a defensive position. "If that is my destiny, then so be it," he stated, bracing himself for Galbatorix's attack.

The Rider King attacked with so much strength that Eragon nearly broke under his first assault. The black sword locked Mor'ranr with a loud clang and Eragon stepped back under the force of the attack. Galbatorix drew his blade away from the deadlock and went for a pass towards Eragon's neck. Eragon ducked swiftly and brought Mor'ranr around towards Galbatorix's torso. The King's sword was there to block the attack. It quickly twirled aside and managed to scratch Eragon's right upper arm.

He recoiled a bit from the wound. It wasn't much, but it still stung. Mor'ranr flew up just in time to block an overhead blow from Galbatorix. He knocked his opponent's sword away jabbed at his abdomen, but Galbatorix easily parried.

The Rider King laughed in amusement at Eragon and stepped back, lowering his sword. "You still are a child, aren't you?" he teased.

Eragon growled, "And you are unwise to lower your defenses!" He practically threw himself at the evil King. Mor'ranr, dancing with the colors of the Souls, came dangerously close to Galbatorix's neck before he could swing his sword up to block it. A sadistic smile flashed across the King's face as he threw Eragon to the ground with his strength.

"Now, you will die," Galbatorix announced, flicking his blade to Eragon's quivering throat.

"Not so fast!"

Galbatorix turned quickly, moving his sword from Eragon's throat. Murtagh stood bloody in the doorway to the Vault of Souls with Saphira and Thorn's egg in his hands. His hair, like his face, was covered in blood and his dark eyes gleamed with a murderous glare. "Where is your dragon, Morzanson?" he hissed maliciously. "Have you come to join him in the abyss?"

"No," Murtagh growled, his voice low and menacing. "Thorn is near death. The Varden's best healers and magicians are working to mend him, but I know that it is a task beyond them. I have for his daughter and for the only one strong enough to restore his life. What have you done with Circe?"

Galbatorix approached him slowly with his sword extended in front of him. "You will never find her," he snarled. "And if you do, you won't be able to reach her. Now come to your senses and give me my egg back!"

"It is mine more than it is yours," insisted Murtagh. "Never again will any dragon be forced to submit to you. The new age is coming." He set the egg down on the threshold and drew Zar'roc. The fresh blood of soldiers still gleamed on its scarlet blade. "The new age has no place for you."

"You and I are alike, Murtagh," Galbatorix told him. "I am not the only one who will do whatever it takes to get what I want."

"Do not try to seduce me with your lies!" Murtagh yelled in fury. "What I want is quite different from what you want."

Galbatorix laughed. "Is that so?" he asked. "I can think of one similarity right now: we both want each other dead!" With those words, he attacked quickly and it was all Murtagh could do to block. His muscles strained under the pressure.

Swiftly, he pulled Zar'roc from the deadly embrace and stepped backward. "But I want you dead for the help of the common good," he said, breathing heavily. "You want me dead so you can continue your reign of terror."

"Perhaps," said Galbatorix, "But do not try to tell me that you do not desire power. You father did, and he was my favorite servant."

"Do not speak to me of that man!" Murtagh snarled. "I am not my father!" He jumped at Galbatorix with Zar'roc blazing in his hands.

Galbatorix grinned and kept Murtagh at bay easily, for he had not absorbed the power of the Souls like Eragon had. Soon enough, Galbatorix grew tired of their little game and knocked Zar'roc aside, leaving Murtagh defenseless and trembling in front of the Rider King.

Smiling malevolently at Murtagh, Galbatorix kicked the Red Rider to the ground and poised his black blade at Murtagh's throat. "Pity you have to die, really," said Galbatorix. "You could have been great, you know."

And just as Galbatorix was about to plunge his sword into Murtagh's chest Eragon, having regained his footing and strength, let out a wild yell and charged Galbatorix. The Rider King spun around just in time to block Eragon's sword.

"Brave of you, boy," he spat in Eragon's face. "But you shall not escape this alive. Neither will your friends!"

And so began to most fierce battle Eragon had ever experienced. Strengthened by his anger towards the King and given powers beyond mortal men by the Vault of Souls, Eragon found he was able to match the King with a blade. Galbatorix was hard pressed to block and parry Eragon's relentless assault. Gasping for breath, he stepped backwards.

"You are strong," he admitted, breathing heavily. "But you still do not know the full extent of my power."

Eragon glared at him, unable to speak because he had to catch his breath. He didn't like where Galbatorix was going with this. Then he remembered the magic.

Galbatorix grinned maniacally and Eragon found himself held tightly in place by invisible bindings. He could not move and he could not speak. No matter how hard he tried to release the bindings without speaking, Galbatorix kept them tightly in place. He twirled his sword in his hands as he watched with pleasure the struggling Eragon.

"Oh dear," said Galbatorix with mock concern. "What will you do now? The all mighty Shadeslayer has finally reached the end of his lucky streak, and the end of his life. Nobody can help you now."

"You're wrong."

Murtagh had finally recovered from Galbatorix's attacks and was on his feet again with Zar'roc in his hand. Galbatorix turned and laughed at him. "Won't you ever learn, Murtagh? You cannot defeat me." The Rider King sent him flying through the colorful swirls of the Souls and into the stonewall that lurked out of sight. A loud thud and Murtagh's screams echoed through the chamber. Slowly, the Rider King turned back to Eragon, expecting to end the battle.

But Murtagh had not failed to save his brother. That little distraction was all Eragon needed, for Galbatorix had become weaker throughout their battle and Eragon had been able to break his magical bindings when he wasn't paying attention. When Galbatorix turned back to Eragon, he turned right into Mor'ranr, impaling himself on his enemy's sword.

Galbatorix shrieked in agony and yanked Mor'ranr out of his chest. Blood poured from the wound, but the Rider King did not falter in his assault on Eragon. "Do you really think you can kill me?" he demanded madly. Now he sounded more like a crazy man than a famed ruler. Peels of maniacal laughter rang throughout the castle. "It's not that easy, boy! Power such as mine can never be completely vanquished! I am invincible! You will never destroy me!"

Galbatorix came at a terrified Eragon with both the swords and Eragon backed away in fear. "You may kill me now, but I shall return. The Rider King Galbatorix shall never be forgotten!"

Without thinking, Eragon shouted the first word in the ancient language to come to mind as Galbatorix lunged at him. "BRISINGR!" he exclaimed, putting all his strength behind the word and hoping it would accomplish its purpose.

Galbatorix howled in anguish and despair as his very flesh burst into fire. He was burning up from the inside out! His mind was helpless and the words that would douse the flames fell out of his grasp. The swords fell to the ground with a loud clatter as Galbatorix screamed again, writhing in pain and agony. Eragon watched in amazement as the dreaded Black Rider incinerated and turned to ash before his eyes.

Now Eragon of Carvahall had not only killed the dreaded Shade Durza, but also the vile and despicable King Galbatorix. He fell to his knees, taking deep breaths and trying to steady himself. He was horribly dizzy and was astonished that the amount of energy needed to set a person with so much power on fire hadn't killed him. Slowly, he made his way to his feet and looked around.

The swirling Souls had vanished and the walls of the chamber were visible once again. With Galbatorix's death, all those imprisoned in the Vault of Souls had been set free. Roran lay slumped against a wall and Murtagh was not far from him. They were both still alive and breathing. Eragon's eyes finally fell on the purple dragon egg. He rose steadily to his feet to pick it up and return it to Saphira.

But before he could take even one step, he fell over unconscious.


	24. Chapter 24: Aftermath & Inheritance

Only four reviews? Ah, you can do better… :) 

Voyfan7: Eh, you'll have to wait and see.

SidiousSith: Thanks! Ow.. it is a bad way to die. But I had to make Galby die a painful death.

DeadlyCreative: Now if Galby was really gone, I wouldn't be able to do Armageddon, now would I? Thanks for the review!

FAteD lOvE: Lol. I'll see what I can do.

**Chapter Twenty-Four: Aftermath & Inheritance**

* * *

Arya stood atop the southern wall of Urû'baen, gazing out into the sunrise. After a desperate fight through eternal darkness, the sun was finally rising and the Varden were victorious.

Once given the command, the Elves crept up on Urû'baen from the north and caught the soldiers on guard by surprise. Before those on the wall could sound the alarm, they fell with arrows protruding from their throats. The guards at the gate were easy enough to get past also and the Elves, under Arya and Islanzadí's banner, inundated the city with little opposition.

Though most of the villagers were not harmed by the Elves' invasion, anyone who stood in their way was either shot down by an arrow or killed by magic. They could have no mistakes this time. By midnight, everyone in the city was under the Elves' control and most of the warriors, including Arya and Islanzadí, moved out onto the plains to aid the Men. The Dwarves and Urgals were not far behind them. In what seemed like no time at all, Galbatorix's imperial army was beaten.

Now Arya watched as Men, Elves, Dwarves and Urgals alike moved about the blood-stained battlefield, searching for any wounded that might yet live and crying for those dead or beyond help. Something worried Arya's mind. The leaders of each faction had returned, all except for one. With her on the wall surveying the damage were Nasuada, Orrin, Orik, Garzhvog, Horst, Angela and Trianna. Islanzadí was nowhere to be found, neither were Eragon, Roran and Murtagh.

Now she watched in horror as two Elves turned over a body and howled in anguish and despair. At their cry, every Elf within earshot made his or her way over to the fallen one and let out their own cry of despair. Arya knew that it could have been only one lying there dead. There was only one whose death could cause such an agonized reaction from the Elves, and that was Queen Islanzadí.

She looked away. The sight of her mother's dead body being brought into the city with a grim procession of crying Elves behind it would be too much for her to bear. No matter how many times she'd sworn she disliked her mother, it still hurt a great deal to know that she was dead. Now there was only one in her life that she could say she loved.

Where was Eragon? He hadn't been seen since he and Saphira engaged Galbatorix and Shruikan. Taking a deep breath, Arya left the wall and descended into the city, making her way towards Galbatorix's castle and reaching out for Eragon with her mind. She passed Thorn, being tended by healers and magicians in the middle of the courtyard, and hoped that Saphira had fared better. She too had yet to be found.

The doors to the fortress had been torn apart. Arya couldn't help but smile. She guessed it was either Saphira or little Garrow that had done that in desperation to reach their Riders. Then a darker thought ran across her mind. What had befallen Eragon and Roran that made their dragons so frantic? Worried, she quickened her pace.

Soon enough, Arya felt Saphira touch her mind. The dragon's consciousness was frantic and worried. _He's hidden some place where I cannot reach him,_ she said desperately. _I can tell you where but you have to bring him back._

Arya nodded in understanding as Garrow and Saphira came into the main hall. The Elf couldn't help but notice how everything was scorched. _Just tell me where to go._

Saphira nodded and pointed her nose at a side door. _Go down those steps and then find the end of the corridor. I think Eragon's down there somewhere._

Arya tried to smile encouragingly at Saphira. _I _will _find him,_ she assured her before disappearing into the depths of Galbatorix's castle.

I took quite a while to reach the end of the staircase, and even longer to reach the end of the hallway. The stone doors to the chamber were forced open and the Elf cautiously stepped inside. Silence nearly overcame her ears as she looked around. Roran and Murtagh lay unconscious on the ground by the far wall; both of their swords were thrown haphazardly aside. But Arya had eyes only for Eragon, who had collapsed at the opposite end of the chamber, next to the charred remains of Galbatorix's body.

She reached out for his mind first, but found it inaccessible. Worried, Arya rushed over to him and pulled his body onto her lap. He let out a quiet moan and Arya leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his lips. Eragon groaned and his eyes flickered open. "Arya?" he whispered. "Arya, is that you?"

Arya smiled and kissed his forehead. "Yes, it's me. Saphira's worried sick about you."

Eragon smiled. _Saphira_.

_You've got a lot of explaining to do_, Saphira snapped angrily. _You're lucky I wasn't the one there when you woke up!_

_You'll hear the whole tale in full. Just be patient,_ Eragon assured her. He turned his attention back to Arya. "Arya," he breathed. "I had another strange dream while I was out."

Concern flickered across her green eyes. "Like the ones you had of me in Gi'lead?" she asked.

"No," he whispered, shaking his head. "I spoke with Brom."

"Brom?" said Arya. "What did he say? Anything important?"

Eragon chuckled. "Yes, very important. He told me who my father was."

Arya was confused. "But we know your father was Morzan."

"No," Eragon whispered. "Brom was."

"What?" Arya asked, flabbergasted. "But that can't be true. He would have told the Varden. He would have at least told Oromis!"

"No," said Eragon. "He didn't want anyone to know. Brom told Oromis that I was the son of Selena and Oromis knew that Selena loved Morzan. It seemed obvious that I was their son. Nobody knew that she fell for Brom too."

"But why would Brom try to steal Selena from Morzan?" Arya asked, still not believing him. "He just doesn't seem like the kind of person who would do that."

"Oromis told me that Brom admired Morzan very much, until Morzan joined Galbatorix," said Eragon. "Morzan's betrayal crushed Brom and all he wanted to do was get back at him. He said that he met Selena the one time that he was captured and brought to Urû'baen. He eventually escaped, but Selena began to wonder why Morzan couldn't treat her like Brom did and started pining for him. When Morzan left to find Saphira's egg, Selena went looking for Brom. She found him on his way back to Farthen Dûr."

"Though he cared for Selena, I don't think Brom was proud of his actions," Eragon went on. "But that's not the only reason he kept it a secret. What would Galbatorix have done if word got out that the last Rider and his only son were living in Carvahall?"

"He would have sent the entire army to eradicate you," said Arya quietly. "The whole village would have suffered greatly."

"And even if word didn't get out and events played out the same way, but I knew that Brom was my father," Eragon continued. "The Twins would still have found out in Farthen Dûr and told Galbatorix. He would assume that I had a lifetime of teaching from Brom and that I was quite skilled and threatening. He would have gone to the Burning Plains to kill me himself."

"Are you absolutely sure?" Arya asked after a moment of silence. "This could all be a figment of your imagination."

Eragon nodded and reached for Mor'ranr. Arya took it from Galbatorix's corpse and handed it to him. He held it high and gazed at it lovingly. "This is my father's sword," he whispered in awe. "My inheritance."

After a few moments of silence, Eragon seemed to remember why they were in Urû'baen in the first place. "The battle," he asked, "What happened to the battle?"

"Calm down," she said gently. "Today the Varden are victorious." She glanced over at the smoldering body lying next to them. "It seems that you were as well."

He smiled again. "It took nearly all of my strength, but I did it. Arya, I killed Galbatorix!"

Arya looked over at Roran and Murtagh. "I don't think you did it alone, though," she commented.

"I suppose Murtagh helped a little," Eragon grumbled. "But all Roran did was get quickly incapacitated." He paused, looking at Arya. "You look troubled. You should rejoice in our victory."

Arya dropped her gaze. "My mother is dead," she said quietly.

Eragon fell silent for a moment before he said, "I'm terribly sorry."

Arya ignored him. "Can you stand?" Eragon nodded and she helped him up and went over to see if Roran was okay. Eragon ventured over to Murtagh.

His brother's body was twisted at an odd angle and Eragon cringed at the sight. There was a large gash on his forehead and blood dripped down his face. It looked like his right arm and right leg were broken. Frankly, Eragon was amazed that he was still breathing. He reached out and healed the gash on Murtagh's forehead, but didn't have the strength to have the broken bones. They would have to wait for a healer.

Murtagh's eyes fluttered open and a look of panic flashed across his face. He tried to sit up but Eragon held him down because of his injuries. "What's going on?" demanded Murtagh. "What happened? Where's Thorn… and Circe?"

"Calm down, Murtagh," Eragon pleaded. "Everything's fine, but you're badly injured."

"So… Galbatorix… he's dead?" asked Murtagh. Eragon nodded wordlessly. "And the battle?" Murtagh wanted to know.

"We are victorious," Eragon stated with a smile.

"Thorn," said Murtagh, breathing heavily. "Where is Thorn? Is he all right?"

Eragon didn't answer right away. "I do not know," he said. "But I'm sure the Varden are doing all they can to help him."

"That won't be enough!" Murtagh shouted furiously, attempting to stand again. Eragon didn't hold him down this time, but Murtagh found it impossible to stand because of his broken leg. He let out an aggravated sigh and fell back to the floor. "Thorn needs Circe," he told Eragon. "She's the only one who can heal him."

"Murtagh, nobody knows where Circe is," Eragon told him. "She hasn't been seen since she left the Varden in Aberon."

"She's here," Murtagh insisted. "I can feel her again now that Galbatorix is dead." He took a deep breath because of the pain in his body. "Take me to Thorn and then you have to find her, Eragon."

Eragon looked over at Arya quickly; she'd revived Roran and the two of them watched Eragon and Murtagh curiously. "Arya," called Eragon. "We need to get Murtagh to Thorn. I don't think I'll be able to carry him, and I don't have the strength to use magic. Can you use your magic?"

Arya nodded and spoke a few words in the ancient language and Murtagh was lifted off the ground. Eragon picked up the purple dragon egg and began to walk back up to the surface with Roran and Arya. Murtagh's floating body followed behind them. In the main hall, Saphira and Garrow joined them.

Eragon ran to Saphira and hugged her neck. _I am so glad to see you safe and in one piece_, she said lovingly. However, the dragon quickly changed her tune. _You had best not do anything like that again!_ she snapped. _And after all those times I promised to never leave you again…_

She trailed off as she realized that Eragon was laughing. He held the egg out to her. _I told you a million times that I can defend myself,_ he chuckled. _Why don't you ever believe me?_

Saphira smiled. _Perhaps I'm extra protective of you because of that little rule about the death of a Dragon Rider. You know, the part that says I'll die if you do?_

Once they reached the main courtyard where Thorn was lying unconscious surrounded by Du Vrangr Gata, Arya released her spell on Murtagh and turned to leave. However, Eragon called her back.

"I need your help," he explained. "I promised Murtagh that I'd bring Circe to heal Thorn. I know she's somewhere in the castle, but not much else."

Arya nodded. "I will help you," she agreed. "It would be a crime for Thorn to die."

Eragon smiled and looked to Saphira. She and Garrow had gotten as close to Thorn as they could in concern. _I'll be back soon enough Saphira._

Saphira merely nodded. _Find the witch_, she said gravely. _Murtagh's right. Thorn needs her._

Eragon nodded back and promised, _I'll do my best._


	25. Chapter 25: Healing

Five reviews? Keep 'em coming. 

DeadlyCreative: Thanks so much!

SidiousSith: Haha. Glad you liked the chapter, and the nickname; his name is just so long!

Voyfan7: Yup, unexpected right there. First came across the theory on Shur'tugal. They've got a nice little article on it. Yes, Arya will be queen, and Eragon's position will be decided next chapter.

Canadien-Girl14: Hehe, well I don't usually like killing people off. I have a feeling Thorn will be just fine.

TwilightMoonEclipse: Glad you liked the chapter. Eh, I knew I was taking a risk by going after that theory.

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**Chapter Twenty-Five: Healing**

The room was dark, terribly dark; black curtains had been pulled over the windows while she slept. She could see nothing, and she could hear nothing. Shock and confusion took control her. Where was she? And, more importantly, what had happened while she was taken by the Rider King's horrible spell?

Circe sat up, breathing heavily, and tried to make sense of everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours. She had been imprisoned by Nasuada in Aberon and had changed shape in order to flee to Urû'baen. Hating both the Varden and Galbatorix, she had come to the palace seeking to put and end to the destructive conflict. With both of her enemies destroyed, she would leave Alagaësia in peace and return to the land of her kin, alone or with Murtagh. But, in her zeal, she had greatly underestimated Galbatorix. The Rider King had quickly overpowered and incapacitated her with his accursed magic.

She had been forced into a fitful and unpleasant sleep, one that could only be lifted by the Rider King. It had been filled with dreams of war, blood and the deaths of those she cared about. She had been forced to relive the deaths of her parents and she saw for the first time the deaths of Murtagh and Thorn, who were the only ones that she thought understood her. And now it was all over. That was the only way she could have awakened. The battle was over. Now she had to discover the outcome.

Slowly, she began to reach out with her mind for the nearest life forms. Most of the castle was empty; she wasn't surprised. Every guard and maid would have been called upon to fight and die for his or her King. However, she did find two people that interested her. Eragon and Arya were in the castle, down in the lower levels, probably imprisoned. Suddenly, she felt someone trying to get into her mind. Hesitantly, she let them in. The only one that could do her harm from within her mind was Galbatorix, and if it was the King there was no point in trying to resist.

_Circe?_

The voice was not Galbatorix's as she had feared, but Eragon's. A knot formed in her stomach. After she'd betrayed the Varden, she didn't think she could bear such intimate contact with the Blue Rider. They all probably hated her by now. Reluctantly, she responded to his query. _Yes, Eragon, it is I._

_Can you tell me where you are?_

_I do not know where I am_. _Galbatorix's spell still clouds my magic._

Eragon was silent for a moment. _Hold on then. Arya and I are trying to find you. _Circe gulped. Then the Varden had won and she had woken because Galbatorix was dead. What did the Varden want with her now? To arrest her again?

With a soft groan, she managed to sit and eventually stand. Like her mind, her bones and muscles were weary from Galbatorix's spell. "Éclairez," she whispered. At her command, a sphere of light appeared in her hand, illuminating the room so she could see her surroundings. With a gasp, she realized that she was in Galbatorix's chambers! How dare he! She grimaced at what he must have been planning to do upon his arrival. She strode over to the window, pulled back the curtains and extinguished the ball of light in her hand.

As sunlight flooded into the room, the witch gazed out the window and down into the courtyard below. The three dragons, Saphira, Thorn and Garrow, were all huddled close together in the center. She thought she saw Murtagh there too, pressed against Thorn lovingly. Once more, confusion took her. What happened? She would have liked to know.

After a few more moments, the door swung open to reveal Eragon and Arya, both looking disheveled and battle scarred. Circe turned from the window to look at them; her face was emotionless. "What happened?" she asked quietly. "Why have you come looking for a traitor like me? Do you simply wish to arrest me again?"

Eragon shook his head and grabbed her arm hastily. "Thorn needs you," he told her. "We have to get down to the courtyard as quickly as possible."

She looked to Arya, who nodded in confirmation to Eragon's words, and then back the Dragon Rider. Thorn was in trouble? So that was why they were all crowded in the courtyard. She nodded to Eragon. "Take me to him," she replied.

The flight to the courtyard was long and full of stairs, as Galbatorix's chambers were high in one of the towers. Circe remained silent the entire time, knowing that the Elf and Rider still viewed her as a traitor and one who couldn't be trusted. However, Eragon and Arya exchanged a casual word or two, though Circe never understood what they said in the ancient language. When they finally exited the palace and walked into the warm sunlight, Circe noticed how those present turned to glare at her. She lowered her gaze and strode over to Murtagh and Thorn.

"Are you all right?" she whispered to him.

"Heal Thorn," he commanded firmly.

Her eyes fell on his twisted limbs. "You're hurt," she told him. "Let me help you."

"No!" he snapped angrily. "Thorn needs you more than I do. Fix him and then you can help me."

She nodded reluctantly, turned her attention the red dragon and sat down next to him. His neck was covered in large gashes and dried blood. She grimaced at the sight. In addition to that, a dragon's teeth, probably Shruikan's, had punctured Thorn's wing membrane. She placed a gentle hand on Thorn's unconscious body and muttered a Kylrian spell. "Raccommodez les blessures du dragon," she whispered and watched as the gaps in his scales closed and the holes in his wing mended. She took a deep breath; it had taken a great deal of energy to heal wounds that serious and she was previously weakened from Galbatorix's spell. She smiled weakly as Thorn's breathing returned to normal.

Satisfied, she turned to Murtagh and said, "Raccommodez les blessures de l'homme." His broken bones healed in an instant. Her violet eyes met his dark ones. "Thorn will be just fine," she said softly.

"Thank you," Murtagh replied, running his hands over his previously broken bones in astonishment. "Thorn and I are forever in your debt."

Circe smiled at him. "Forget about it," she told him.

A moment of silence passed before Murtagh spoke again. "I was so worried about you," he whispered. "Galbatorix… he told me that you were dead."

"Galbatorix was a wretched liar," she said quietly. "I worried about you, too. My dreams… they showed me your death."

Murtagh opened his mouth to say something else, but stopped when he noticed how everyone was staring at them, Saphira and Garrow included. Standing there watching them was Eragon, Arya, Roran, Katrina, Nasuada, Orrin, Trianna, Orik and a group of guards trailing behind Orrin and Nasuada. He glared at them; why were they interrupting his moment?

"And the traitor returns," Orrin muttered. Nasuada motioned to the guards and they moved forward obediently.

Circe gulped and turned to face Murtagh. As much as it pained her, she knew there was no escaping being taken into custody again. "I must accept the consequences of my actions," she said gravely. She rose and went to face the Varden.

Murtagh grabbed her arm. "Nonsense," he said, "Let me talk to them. I'll get you out of this."

She shook her head and wrenched her arm from his grip. "I am a traitor to the Varden and therefore, since they won the battle, they have the right to arrest me and punish me in whatever way they consider just," she said, forcing a weak smile. "Nasuada is a righteous leader. I will not be judged unfairly." Before Murtagh could say anything else, she stepped forward and faced Nasuada.

"You are formally charge with treacherous actions against the Varden, actions that aided the vile Rider King Galbatorix. What do you have to say for yourself?" Nasuada demanded, meeting Circe's eyes with her own dark ones.

The Kylrian raised her chin to the sky in a dignified manner. "I do not regret my choice," she stated stoically. "At the time, it seemed to be the best way to destroy my enemies. You are right to arrest me, Lady, and I will not attempt escape. Though, I do beg you to be merciful and just."

Nasuada nodded. "Very well." She motioned to the guards and ordered, "Take her to Galbatorix's chambers. Trianna, I want strong spells sealing the room and guards outside the door at all times." Circe made no motion to resist as the guards bound her hands and she was led back up the stairs and into the castle.

The instant she was out of earshot, Murtagh jumped up from Thorn's side and approached Nasuada. "What are you doing?" he demanded. "You _wanted_ her to escape!"

"I know," answered Nasuada. "But no matter how you look at it, she betrayed us and informed Galbatorix of our plans. She did not know of my intentions. As far as she knew, she was giving Galbatorix the information he needed to eradicate us, and for that she must be punished justly." Murtagh glared at her and returned to Thorn's side in defeated silence.

"There you are!" shouted Angela the herbalist, approaching with Solembum and Elva at her side. She pointed a finger at Eragon. "The war is over, Galbatorix is dead, and it is time for you to relieve this poor girl of the burden you bestowed upon her!"

Eragon nodded. "It would seem that you are right, Angela," he acknowledged. "Though the danger to the lives of the leaders of the Varden is not completely gone, I will cure the child. If that is what she wishes."

Elva raised her solemn head as Eragon asked for her opinion. Her black hair obscured her violet eyes and the shining mark Saphira had given her and sent an eerie chill down the Blue Rider's spine. "This battle, along with the one that preceded it, has brought me much pain and agony," said Elva in her strange, cynical voice. She lowered her head again and continued, "If it can be done, I desire to be relieved of this curse."

Eragon took a deep breath. "I cannot foretell what will happen to you if I lift this curse," he said quietly. "I doubt that all the effects of my previous spell can be fully erased. Though I am quite confident I can take away some of your pain and suffering."

Elva nodded. "I wish for you to try," she said, raising her face to look at him with her strange violet eyes.

"Very well," said Eragon with a nod. He raised his palm over her head and sat what he should have said over her in the first place, "Atra gülai un ilian taught ono un atra ono waíse sköliro frá rauthr."

At the end of his spell, Elva's expression went blank and she fainted into Angela's waiting arms. The herbalist shot him a glare. "You'd better pray to whatever gods may exist that she gets better," she snapped, before picking up the young girl and storming away angrily.

Eragon was about to turn away as well, but he felt something touch his mind. _You've done well for once_, said Solembum the werecat with a crooked smile.

Eragon chuckled. _I'm glad you think so._

_Just for the record_, said the werecat, _I do enjoy helping you… sometimes._

_Just as I enjoy receiving your help… sometimes_, Eragon said with a smile.

_You remind me of your mother_, Solembum told him wistfully. _Except you achieved what you set out to do. Selena… she tried her best, but after she heard had her fortune told, she was never the same again._

Eragon lowered his head sadly. So the woman Angela and Solembum met in Teirm really was his mother. Her fate was sad indeed; Angela told him the truth. Slowly, he turned away from Solembum and remained silent, not knowing what to say to the werecat's remark.

"Eragon!"

He looked up and saw Arya and Nasuada motioning for him to follow them. "Come on, Shadeslayer," said Nasuada. "All of us need to sit down and have a nice, long talk. There are dozens of things that need to be decided quickly, before groups arise that will resist the Varden's authority."


	26. Chapter 26: Plans for the Future

Two reviews? What happened to the eleven I got for chapter twenty? 

Thanks to both DeadlyCreative and CanadienGirl14

So I'm thinking there is only going to be one more chapter after this. If you find any loose ends I didn't tie up, let me know.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Six: Plans for the Future**

Eragon looked around at the crew of people seated in Nasuada's tent. Representatives from every race and faction that made up the Varden and Surda's forces had been called together to decide what action they should take next. Alagaësia was now without a leader, and action had to be taken quickly if anarchy and chaos were to be avoided.

Nasuada represented the Varden and Orrin represented Surda. Arya, Orik and Garzhvog were present for the Elves, Dwarves and Urgals. Trianna spoke for Du Vrangr Gata. Horst was called to speak for Carvahall, as they made up a large group in the Varden, and Eragon was there to speak for the Riders. Also present were Roran, Jörmundur, Angela, Solembum and Murtagh. Saphira, Thorn and Garrow had been invited but declined the offer, opting to spend their time in the sky and not involved in the politics of other races.

"Perhaps the most important question that needs answering," said Nasuada regally, "is who shall rule Alagaësia now that Galbatorix is dead. Having completed my father's goal of destroying the Black King, I have no desire to take the throne."

"Nor do I desire to claim it," said Orrin.

Eragon shifted uneasily. He could already feel some eyes on him. He shook his head. "I have already made it clear that I do not wish to rule," he stated.

"No one from my race will try to take it," said Arya. Orik and Garzhvog nodded in their agreement.

"Perhaps we should forgo the monarchy in favor of a High Council?" suggested Jörmundur.

Nasuada sighed. There was no way she was going to let the Council of Elders take over Alagaësia. She had hoped someone like Eragon would step forward and volunteer to rule. "Who ruled Alagaësia before Galbatorix?" she asked, hoping that the past could reveal an answer.

"The Broddring Kingdom," replied Eragon, remembering his lessons with Oromis.

Arya shook her head. "King Angrenost was no good against Galbatorix. If we were to find his heir, if one still exists, I fear it would only invite another tyrant to come in."

Nasuada nodded. "Who ruled before the Broddring Kingdom?"

"King Palancar," answered Angela. "And when he was exiled, where did he go? Way up north to what is now called Palancar Valley." Her eyes fell on Eragon, Roran and Horst. "The blood of the Kings still runs in Palancar Valley."

At that point in time, everyone turned to look at the three men from Carvahall. "Who is in charge of Carvahall?" Nasuada asked. "Who would you trust to lead you?"

Horst looked at Roran. "Him," he answered simply. Before Roran could say anything in protest, he continued, "It's all because of Roran that we made it to Surda. It's all because of Roran that our village survived the Empire. He speaks for all of Carvahall now."

"Is this true?" asked Orrin.

Slowly, Roran nodded. "Aye, it is true," he admitted. "But I'm no King."

"Nonsense," said Horst. "You could rule Alagaësia better than anybody else I know."

Eragon nodded. "I agree. Roran would be a magnificent King."

"Aye," said Murtagh. "Alagaësia needs someone with his zeal."

"What say you?" Nasuada asked Orrin.

"I think that we've found our King," he answered, "unless somebody here has good reason why the Green Rider should not rule."

Nobody said a thing, not even Jörmundur.

Nasuada turned her attention to Roran. "Well then, Stronghammer. You have proved yourself numerous times and have accomplished feats that few can match. I am personally in your debt for slaying the traitors that murdered my father. We all support you and it is with great respect that I ask you now: do you accept this position?"

Roran thought for a moment and did not answer right away, though it didn't take long for him to convince himself what he should do. With one thought of all the wonderful things he could do for Alagaësia and Katrina, he knew that this was his destiny. Finally, he raised his gaze to Nasuada's and nodded. "Aye," he declared. "I will be your King." He paused for a moment and took in the satisfied expressions on everyone's faces. "But I have one request."

"Name it," said Nasuada.

"I have no experience in ruling a region as vast as Alagaësia," Roran stated. "Therefore, I would like to assemble a group of trusted advisors to guide me and my successors."

"That can be done," said Jörmundur.

"Aye," agreed Nasuada. Orrin also nodded his approval. "Do you have any ideas of who you would like on this council?"

"You, My Lady," Roran answered. "As well as Jörmundur and a representative from Surda, the Elves, Dwarves and Urgals. I would ask for a Rider as well, but I already am one and Eragon and Murtagh's skills would be best used elsewhere. Will that be feasible?"

Nasuada nodded. "I would be honored to serve on your council, Your Majesty."

"As would I," said Jörmundur.

"I would serve myself," said Arya, "if I did not have other duties. I shall send another trusted Elf."

"And I shall grant you one of my best Dwarves," nodded Orik.

Garzhvog made similar promises, but he also had one more request. "My race was promised land, a place where we could thrive without being attacked by other races."

Roran thought for a moment, still not completely over his bias against Urgals. "I believe there is land east of the Hadarac Desert and west of the Az Ragni. Your race may have whatever land is there and unpopulated and any part of the desert that you desire." He paused for a moment. "I would like my reign to begin a time of peace among all races." His eyes wandered from Arya, to Orik and finally rested on Garzhvog. "Under my rule, there shall be a severe punishment for anyone who attacks an Urgal simply because he is an Urgal. Likewise, no Urgal will attack a member of any other race simply because he is not an Urgal. Do I make myself clear?"

Garzhvog nodded. "I shall take my kin and depart, then. I will tell the other tribes to do the same."

"Very well," said Roran, dismissing the subject.

Eragon glanced at Arya. "You're going to become Queen." It was more a statement than a question.

Arya nodded. "My life has long been dedicated to the well being of my race," she stated.

"What does that mean for me?"

Arya didn't reply right away. "Elves do not marry," she reminded him, "and you cannot become our King, as you are not an Elf." Eragon's face fell at her disheartening words. She continued, "But I would be honored if you would take up residence in Ellesméra. You will be granted the same apartment as last time and the Elves would be overjoyed to see you and Saphira again. That is, if you wish to come with me."

"Arya Svit-kona," answered Eragon, "I have desired to go with you ever since I first laid eyes on you. What would make you think I would not follow you until the end of time? Of course I will come with you to Ellesméra."

Arya smiled. "I am glad."

Eragon looked at Murtagh. The Red Rider had been silent for most of the meeting. "Where will you go, Murtagh?" he asked. "What will you do now?"

Murtagh sighed. "I do not know." His dark eyes fell on Nasuada. "What are you going to do with Circe?" There was a hint of concern in his voice.

An expression of surprise came over Nasuada as he asked his question. "She will be tried and punishment accordingly," she responded.

Murtagh frowned and shifted uneasily in his chair. "Release her to me," he said anxiously. "Release her to me and she won't bother you ever again."

Nasuada raised an eyebrow curiously. "How can you promise me that?" she inquired.

"We will withdraw into my father's castle between the Silverwood Forest and Tüdosten Lake," answered Murtagh quickly. "There we will stay unless the need for our skills arises."

"If that be the case, Murtagh," said Roran, "I have a job for you."

Murtagh turned his attention to the new King of Alagaësia. "As long as Nasuada releases Circe to me, I shall do whatever you ask," he stated, looking back at Nasuada.

Nasuada sighed in resignation. "_All right_, all ready!" she gasped. "But if she causes any trouble for the new regime, you should be held accountable."

"Aye," said Roran, "He shall be."

Murtagh nodded in understanding. "Thank you, My Lady," he said to Nasuada, then turned back to Roran. "What do you wish of me?" he asked.

"Look over the southern portion of Alagaësia for me," answered Roran. "Everything south of Furnost and north of Surda would be your domain. All you would have to do is make sure laws are obeyed and report any problems to me."

"Aye," agreed Murtagh. "That I can do."

"Excellent," said Roran, turning to Horst. "I would also like someone to look after the north for me."

Horst looked at him. "Are you asking me?"

"Aye."

"Anything for you Roran," said the blacksmith in agreement. He grinned. "Garrow would be proud. You started off with nothing, and now look at you! King of Alagaësia!"

* * *

"Katrina."

Roran breathed in her intoxicating scent as he embraced her, his wife. He knew that he was still sweaty and dirty from the battle, but he didn't care and neither did Katrina. All that mattered was that the battle was over and they could finally live together in peace. There was no longer anything that would tear them apart.

"Roran," she whispered as he released her. Roran couldn't help but notice how beautiful she was. Because she wasn't called to the meeting, she had time to wash herself and fix her appearance. Before she could say anything else, he leaned in and kissed her deeply, relishing in their love.

She kissed her back, but soon drew away. A playful smile danced across her lips. "How was your meeting?" she asked. "Productive?"

"Aye."

"So you've reached a conclusion, then?"

"Aye."

"Well?" she demanded impatiently. "Who is going to rule Alagaësia?"

"Me," Roran answered simply.

"You?" asked Katrina with a raised eyebrow. "Come on, stop joking. Who's going to rule Alagaësia?"

"I told you," Roran repeated, "Me."

"You're not joking are you?" Katrina asked in disbelief.

"Would I lie to you?" he asked.

Katrina smiled. "Well then, Your Majesty," she said cheerfully. "Would that make me your queen?"

"Aye, it would," Roran replied, kissing her gently. "I started out with nothing, Katrina, and now I can give you all of Alagaësia. Whatever you want, you can have."

"Good," said Katrina as she kissed him softly. "Then the baby will be well taken care of."

Roran stared at her in stunned disbelief. "What did you just say?" he whispered, barely able to talk.

Her eyes met his and she whispered back, "Roran, I'm pregnant."

Without saying a word, Roran leaned in and kissed her passionately. When the couple finally broke apart, it was Roran that spoke first. "This is one of the happiest moments of my life," he breathed. "You're going to be such a good mother."

Katrina blushed. "And you're going to be the most amazing father in all of Alagaësia."

"Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?" Roran asked curiously.

"No. I want it to be a surprise," Katrina said sternly. "Don't you go figuring it out with your fancy magical powers, Dragon Rider."

Roran frowned. "But I want to know," he pouted. It would be so easy. All he would have to do is touch the mind of the child. "If you let me check, you can pick the name."

"No," Katrina insisted stubbornly. "We're going to sit down, have a nice little chat and agree on a nice name for our child," she told him, placing her hands protectively on her abdomen.

"Katrina," Roran whined. "Why must you be so difficult?"

Katrina laughed and kissed him. "I love you, too," she said with a smile.


	27. Chapter 27: And in the End

Reviews… wonderful little things, aren't they? 

Spottedstar106: Thankies!

Canadien-Girl14: Terribly said, isn't it? I had so much fun working on this that I hate to think that it's over. But now I can look forward writing my next fic, Darkness Approaches

Wannabeanautor: Thanks!

Oanimal0327: Purple came from a combination of red (Thorn) and blue (Saphira). When selecting the new Rider for this fic, I had to chose between Roran and Arya. I chose Roran because I like him better than Arya. Though I think Paolini will chose Arya. All your other questions are answered in this chappie.

DeadlyCreative: Yup. Roran'll be an amazing king. Sloan's in this chappie.

So here we are at the end of it all. This has been amazing and I can't thank my reviewers enough. You guys are amazing.

So Darkness Approaches is next, followed by Armageddon. If you're looking for any of my future fics that I talked about in previous chapters, I recommend adding me to your author alerts. I cannot tell you when, but they will be up eventually.

Until Darkness Approaches,

SwimAngel

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Seven: And in the End**

Just as Eragon had predicted while he was still captive in Galbatorix's palace, killing Galbatorix did not end the war. The new Rider King Roran Stronghammer and his High Council spent nearly a year rounding up Galbatorix's followers and enemies of the new regime. Finally, when everything was taken care of and peace swept over Alagaësia, a date was set for Roran's Coronation.

It was a splendid occasion! People lined the streets of Ilirea, once Galbatorix's city of Urû'baen and now renamed by the new King. Everyone was dressed in their finest clothes and representatives of the Elves, Dwarves and Urgals had all come to honor the King. Music rang through the air and those in the streets could catch an inspiring glimpse of Saphira, Thorn or Garrow as they soared overhead. Flags bearing the King's seal, a green dragon wielding a hammer in one hand and a sword in the other on a gold background, flew from every building and flapped ceremoniously in the wind. The palace had been completely repaired and redecorated to represent the benign folk that now ruled Alagaësia. The courtyard that led up to its marble steps was filled with those who had been most influential in the war against Galbatorix.

Eragon was dressed like a prince in his finest armor, and Arya, now Queen of Ellesméra, wore her mother's cape of swan feathers over a magnificent scarlet gown. Saphira had landed behind them and her brilliant sapphire scales shone marvelously in the sun. Next to her was Thorn, who nuzzled Saphira in an adorable manner. Then there was Murtagh, dressed similarly to Eragon, with his arm around Circe, who was now liberated and dressed in a gorgeous violet gown that rivaled Arya's cape of swan feathers. Nasuada stood next to them and her gown was adorned with the lace used to support the Varden. Orrin, Jeod and Angela the herbalist were next to Nasuada with Solembum and Elva at their feet. Then there was King Orik and Queen Hvedra of the Dwarves, and Garzhvog with a group of Urgals. Also present were Vanir, Nari, Lifaen, Jörmundur and those who formerly made up the Council of Elders. Horst was also there, along with Elain, their newborn daughter Lena, Albriech and Baldor.

Several trumpets sounded in a regal melody as King Roran and Queen Katrina appeared at the top with the green dragon Garrow trailing behind them. Both were dressed better than anybody else in attendance and in the Queen's arms was her newborn child, Princess Mella. A silent hush fell over the city as everyone turned to gaze at the monarchs. The messenger boy Jarsha came forward. In his hands was an emerald pillow, and on that pillow were two crowns, one gold and one silver. He presented the pillow to Roran and Katrina and Roran took the gold crown while Katrina took the silver one. Then Jarsha retreated into the crowd and Roran and Katrina lowered the diadems onto their own heads. And that is how all future the Kings and Queens of Alagaësia were crowned.

Several shouts and yelps pierced the cheer of the crowds and a sole man was pushed out in front of the King and Queen. Those in the crowd closest to him backed away. Roran looked down at the man and pitied him for a moment, for he was clothed only in rags. "What is the meaning of this?" demanded the King. "Why is this man thrust before me in such a manner?"

It was Eragon who answered him. "Look into his face, Roran!" called the Shadeslayer. "Then I think the reason will become clear."

Roran did as his cousin and friend instructed him. He descended down the stairs and came within a few feet of the beggar. "Let me see your face!" he ordered. "Who are you?"

But the man did not raise his head to look at Roran. Instead, he pleaded, "Forgive me, My King, for I have wronged you and your Queen." Quiet sobs now reached Roran's ears and he stepped forward out of pity and knelt down to see the man's face. He froze at once upon recognizing the poor man. "Forgive me," begged Sloan the butcher, father of Queen Katrina.

Sloan was one man that Roran never expected to see again. They were bitter enemies and so he had refused to grant Katrina's hand in marriage to Roran because he had no profession and no way to care for her. Roran, being stubborn and steadfast in his love for her, had announced that they were engaged despite Sloan's disapproval. As a result, Sloan had betrayed Carvahall to the Empire.

Roran beckoned for Katrina to come down and join them, for Sloan was her father. It only took one look at her sad eyes once she realized that this was her father for Roran to know what he had to do with the butcher. Swallowing his own pride and hatred for Sloan, the King said to the pauper, "Listen here, Sloan the butcher, for your King has already decided your fate. I will put you to work in my castle and you shall be our butcher. You will have no salary or any belongings of your own except for the tools you use and the clothes you wear, but you shall never again want for shelter, clothing or food." He paused and lowered his voice to a threatening whisper. "But be warned, you wretched traitor. If you put so much as one foot out of line, you are no longer mine, but the hangman's."

Sloan and cried out and then did something that Roran had never expected. He apologized. "I hope, dear King and son-in-law, that you can find it in your heart to forgive me, for I only wanted the best for my daughter."

"And now she has the best," answered Roran. "Lament no longer, but do not forget who has saved you from destitution." Then Sloan's and Katrina's eyes met and both filled with tears. Katrina handed the child Mella to Roran and rushed forward, embracing her father. It was a most heartfelt scene, and when they finally broke apart, Roran ordered that Sloan be taken into the castle at once and given clean clothes.

Once Roran and Katrina had returned to the top of the palace stairs, Eragon stepped forward with Saphira and Thorn's lavender dragon egg that had recently been spelled not to hatch until its Rider came. "If there is any child present who would like to lay his or her hands on the dragon egg, I ask them to come forward now," the Blue Rider announced, and the result was spectactular. It seemed that every child in the city came forward and held the dragon egg in hopes that they would be chosen as a Dragon Rider. However, no matter how many children laid hands on its smooth shell, the purple dragon refused to hatch.

At the end of the line was Elva. As Eragon had said, all the effects of his curse had not gone away. Though she was no more than three years old, she still appeared to be ten or so. Though her voice had lost its adult cynicism, Saphira's mark still blazed silver on her forward. Fortunately, she no longer felt the pain of others as her own and her life had greatly improved. She was thin and lithe, and her straight black hair blew in the wind as she came forward and laid her palms on the surface of the dragon egg.

Almost immediately, the dragon mark on her forehead blazed with a white light so bright that Eragon, standing very close the egg, was nearly blinded. The crowd gasped at the light and several small cracks appeared in the previously unbreakable surface of the egg. One by one, the pieces of the shell fell away to reveal a tiny purple dragon, and as Elva, the new Rider, reached out to touch it, she was branded by the gedwëy ignasia, sign of a Dragon Rider.

King Roran stepped forward again and stood next to Rider Eragon. "Behold the new Rider, Elva Shiningbrow!" The crowd erupted into boisterous cheers as Elva turned to face them, the hatchling dragon in her arms. For the first time since the Battle of Farthen Dûr, a smile appeared on the face of Elva Shiningbrow and the dragon was named Alambil, after one of Elva's ancestors.

All were ready to depart from the capital the next day, for they all had business of their own to attend to. Eragon, Arya, Saphira, Elva, Alambil and the Elves were ready to leave for Ellesméra. Murtagh, Circe and Thorn were off to the Silverwood Forest. Horst and his family had their heart set on rebuilding Carvahall. Orik, Hvedra and the Dwarves were set to return to Farthen Dûr and Orrin and his attendants were leaving for Aberon. Angela and Solembum were returning to Teirm.

The goodbyes were many and very sad. Saphira and Thorn promised that they would see each other again, even if their Riders did not, and both of them had wise words of advice for little Garrow and Alambil. Eragon promised Orik that he would someday return to Farthen Dûr with Saphira and repair Isidar Mithrim. Eragon and Roran both promised to help Horst in his efforts to rebuild Carvahall if they could be spared from their new duties. But perhaps the most important farewell was between Eragon and Murtagh, for Eragon had yet to share his dream in the Vault of Souls with anyone but Arya and Saphira.

"You look troubled, little brother," observed Murtagh.

"Do not call me that," Eragon told him, "for it is not true."

Murtagh laughed. "Do not tell me that you still deny the past? The name of our father does not influence who we are today."

"I do not deny the past," Eragon corrected him, "but Morzan was not my father. Brom was." Seeing Murtagh's confused and shocked expression, Eragon told him all about his dream where Brom told him the truth and was forced to relay Brom's reasons and arguments in order to convince the Red Rider of the truth.

Finally, Murtagh sighed. "Very well," he said. "We are half-brothers, then, and I am glad to say it." Eragon smiled and embraced his brother.

Before leaving, Eragon managed to catch Angela's attention. "Your prophecy was true," he said. "You predicted my longevity as a Rider, the Battles of Farthen Dûr, the Burning Plains, Isenstar Lake and Urû'baen, Brom's death, my love for Arya and Murtagh's betrayal. But you also said that I would leave Alagaësia forever."

Angela cackled. "That's right," she said, pleased with herself. "I predicted all that and it all came true. The dragon bones never lie. I predicted you would leave, but I never said _when_." She shook her head and chuckled. "No, your adventures aren't over yet, Shadeslayer."


End file.
